


You Can Run Away With Me Anytime You Want

by allyoop_1



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: All is good, Baby Yuri Plisetsky, Fluff, Humor, Long-Haired Victor Nikiforov, M/M, Puppy Love, Sweet, Teenagers, Young Katsuki Yuuri, Young Victor Nikiforov, and really dumb, they're just young and in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2019-10-03 23:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17293724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allyoop_1/pseuds/allyoop_1
Summary: Yuuri and Viktor meet at a junior qualifier and become instant international friends. It takes a maximum of two seconds for Yuuri’s super gay feelings to make an appearance and complicate things. Luckily for him, he’s not the only disaster gay around.Or, Yuuri and Viktor are the same age and have the fluffy teenage romance they deserve. Featuring: Baby Yurio, Yuuri’s Burgeoning Gay Awakening©, and gratuitous descriptions of Viktor’s hair.





	1. Chapter 1

When he’d finally finished skating and had a chance to collapse on a bench in some wayward hallway in the venue, Katsuki Yuuri had only one thought on his mind: holy _shit_.

His coach Minako would berate him for losing focus so easily after his skate (not to mention the curse, though joke was on her because he’d been saying them in his head and in the privacy of his room for an entire year), but the fact of the matter was that Yuuri actually couldn’t care less about his sub-par performance in the short program. After years and years of intense practice and sleepless nights and a bland diet, he had gone out to win his first international event and instead fallen in love.

 _Viktor Nikiforov_. Yuuri shivered. Even his _name_ was beautiful.

Yuuri had been preparing for his own skate, pretty but nowhere near the level of the other skaters there, when Viktor had passed him on his way to the ice. He’d heard of the Russian teenager who could throw a perfect triple axel at just 16, heard the whispers backstage that dripped with envy and not just a hint of malice. He’d heard it, but nothing could have prepared him for seeing Viktor’s actual skating.

It hadn’t just been beautiful: it had been life-changing. Yuuri had sat and watched Viktor flit across the ice with his hair whipping behind him, arms outstretched like he was beckoning everyone into the performance with him, and Yuuri’s heart had shattered. He’d never felt so aware of his body: the rush of breath through his lungs, the pounding of blood in his veins, the gentle rearrangement of his entire being. All because of Viktor.

And then Yuuri had fumbled his own program. It hadn’t been horrible, Minako had been sure to remind him, but it was nowhere near advanced enough to catch the attention of someone like Viktor.

He still had the free skate, though, the little part of his mind devoted to optimism whispered. It was small and kind of wimpy, usually only popping up long enough to encourage him into entering competitions or actually having some self-worth. Thankfully these thoughts were fleeting, and the rest of his inherently pessimistic existence stomped out the hope before it could do something crazy like actually manifest.

Just as he began to sink further into his self-loathing (and it was a deep pit, trust), he heard a shuffle near the other end of the bench. He glanced over and paused. A pair of eyes peered up over the edge at him. They were large and wide, shaded by a flop of blond fringe. Stubby fingers gripped at the bench before him and Yuuri realized he was using it almost as a shield to hide his small body. He looked like he had no intentions of leaving any time soon, though. Or removing his unwavering stare from Yuuri.

Yuuri blinked for a moment, a little unnerved. He cast his gaze around, but no one seemed to be watching the child.

“Um… hello. Can I help you?” Yuuri tried in English, but the boy didn’t respond, just continued with that hundred yard stare. Coughing a little in embarrassment, Yuuri tried again. “Do you speak English? _Or, um, Japanese maybe_?”

The other’s eyes narrowed, suddenly sharp and almost feline in their scrutiny, and Yuuri kind of agreed with the judgement he saw there. They were in Russia, for Pete’s sake; the kid wasn’t going to know Japanese. Cheeks flushed, Yuuri kicked at the ground.

Before he could blink, the boy jumped up on the bench and scooted over to sit beside him. Up close, Yuuri could see that his eyes were green, almost brilliantly so. They shown round and wide, and if Yuuri hadn’t known better he would have guessed they were almost wonderstruck as they focused on him.

“Yuri,” the boy suddenly said, mouth closing around the syllables shortly. Yuuri’s eyebrows shot up before he smiled.

“Yes, my name is Yuuri. What is yours?”

The boy shook his head, though, and pointed to himself. “Yuri,” he sounded out, much slower, and Yuuri suddenly brightened.

“Oh, your name is Yuri” he asked, pointing at the boy. He nodded and Yuuri grinned. “That’s my name too.”

The boy’s head tilted to the side, fringe falling over his face, so Yuuri pointed to his chest. “Yuri,” he said slowly, waiting for the boy to nod before pointing to his own chest. “Yuuri.” He repeated the motion a couple of times before the boy’s back suddenly straightened.

“Yuuri?” he asked, hand splaying wide on Yuuri’s chest. When he nodded, the boy—Yuri— sat back, stunned. A huge grin suddenly split across his face and if Yuuri had thought he was cute before, he’d been wrong; he was an _angel_.  

Before he could even blink, Yuri had shot up from his spot and grabbed for his hand.

“Yuuri, Yuuri!” he whined, along with something Yuuri thought might be Russian. He began tugging insistently at Yuuri’s hand. “Yuuri!”

Yuuri obligingly climbed to his feet, but tried to keep Yuri in place. “Your parents will probably be worried, Yuri. We should look for them.”

Yuri ignored him in favor of pulling him along behind him. For someone so small, he sure was strong. Yuuri thought it might also have something to do with how cute the kid was; he was helpless to deny him whatever request had wiggled its way into his head, not when his smile was so wide nor his eyes so bright.

Yuri dragged them back into the main area of the venue. Yuuri glanced around nervously (because he really didn’t want to be accused of child-napping in a foreign country), but Yuri pulled them straight back to the auditorium that housed the rink. As soon as they made it to the boards, Yuri slammed his hand onto the barrier.

“Yuuri,” he said, eyes shining deeply with emotion. He said something else, but Yuuri had no clue what it could be. He glanced between the boy and the rink.

“You…uh, want to go skating?” he asked.

Yuri shook his head, pointing insistently at the empty rink. He mumbled some more in rapid-fire _something_ , but Yuuri could only shrug helplessly. He barely had English down at this point.

Slamming a hand against the barrier again, Yuri let out a small growl. He eyed Yuuri for a moment before suddenly throwing his arms up. The motion was familiar to Yuuri through years of helping the little ones in Minako’s ballet classes, and he reflexively lifted Yuri up into his arms. The boy leaned in close, almost uncomfortably so, before patting Yuuri’s chest.

He very concisely said something that had Yuuri’s name in it, gesturing grandly out to the ice. Yuuri felt bad because he seemed invested in telling him something, but he really had no idea what he meant. Shrugging his shoulders again, he began to apologize when a voice from behind interrupted them.

“He’s trying to tell you that he liked your performance.”

Yuuri whipped around. Perhaps a tad too fast, because Yuri grabbed for his shoulder for purchase and glared at him. There stood a boy around Yuuri’s age with long silver hair and a wide smile. He had an ISU jacket shrugged on over a black, skin-tight costume that flared out into a half skirt at one hip. Yuuri had seen him skate not even an hour before: Viktor Nikiforov, Russia’s Hope and Junior Grand Prix favorite for this year.

Also, the subject of Yuuri’s very recent ~~and very gay~~ sexual awakening.  

“He says he watched you earlier,” Viktor continued, unaware of Yuuri’s ~~very gay~~ brain malfunctioning. “His exact words were, ‘really freaking cool.’”

“Vitya,” little Yuri called, thankfully stealing Viktor’s attention. He wiggled in Yuuri’s arms until he put him down and then ran over to clutch at Viktor’s leg. Viktor smiled warmly down at him as Yuri prattled on in Russian, gesturing wildly at Yuuri and back from where they’d come.

Viktor seemed to indulge his excited rambling for a moment before his voice lowered, almost as if he was scolding him. For his part, Yuri grumbled back with a pout and a down-turned gaze, cheeks flushing under the scrutiny. Yuuri was perfectly content to let them chatter back and forth; he certainly didn’t know what he was supposed to say to a man so beautiful he’d actually almost cried.

“Sorry about him,” Viktor finally said in English. He shot a look down at Yuri. “He was _supposed_ to stay in the stands with his grandfather, but he likes to wander off.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” Yuuri said before he could think over his words. “I’m just glad no one thought I was kidnapping him. I would hate to be arrested my first time abroad.”

Viktor laughed—laughed at a joke Yuuri had made!—and he felt his heart beat out of rhythm for a second. He looked at Yuuri with a new and appraising light in his eyes, head tilted inquisitively. It reminded him of the way Yuri had done it before, and he couldn’t stop himself from blurting out, “Are you two related?”

“Yes,” Viktor said. “He is my cousin. He wants to be a skater someday too, so his grandfather brings him to all my local competitions.”

Yuri perked up at this, pointing to Yuuri again and saying something smugly. Viktor smiled, all too happy to act as translator as he said, “He says he will be like you someday.”

Feeling a light heat on his cheeks, Yuuri smiled down at the proud boy. “Thank you, Yuri. I look forward to watching you someday on the ice.”

As Viktor translated, Yuri’s chest puffed out in pride. Viktor tossed his ponytail over his shoulder, regarding Yuuri carefully.

“Was this really your first international competition?” he asked.

Yuuri nodded, cheeks heating a little at the admission. “Yes. It was my first time out of the country, too.” Instead of ridiculing him like he expected, Viktor smiled.

“Wow, that’s amazing!” he exclaimed. “You did so well—I was looking forward to your free skate.”

Yuuri’s breath caught in his throat. “You watched me?”

“Of course,” Viktor said, eyes lighting up as he placed a hand on Yuri’s shoulder. “Yura and I watch everyone skate together. Your step sequences, they were pretty good.”

Yuuri felt his face flush and he immediately willed it to go down (but also knew that even just thinking about it was making it worse). He swung his arms a little awkwardly before crossing them tightly over his stomach, avoiding Viktor’s gaze.

“Thank you,” he breathed out. “I… watched you skate as well.”

“Oh, and what did you think?”

“That you were beautiful.”

Yuuri’s jaw dropped at his own words. That was _not_ what he’d intended to say. He sounded like a creep with a crush… which he was, but Viktor didn’t need to know that yet!

He only caught the beginning of a wave of shock spreading across Viktor’s face before a man was pushing his way through the crowds around them.

“Yura!” he called and Yuri cried out in delight when he saw him. He shrugged out from under Viktor’s hand and then ran into the man’s awaiting arms. The man cradled the boy’s head in one large hand, pushing his face into his hair. Yuuri felt like he was intruding on a private moment before the man pulled back and started rebuking Yuri in the same tone of voice Viktor had before. He considered backing away to beat a hasty retreat, but Viktor sidled up beside him before he could.

“How long will you be here after the competition?” he asked, stepping right in front of him and forcing him to meet his gaze. Earlier, Yuuri had entertained the thought his eyes had been the same color as the ice: cold, sharp, and unforgiving. Here, as he gazed at Yuuri insistently, they looked lighter, sapphire rather than steely gray.

“Just until the free skate.” They hadn’t been able to afford another night in the hotel. “We leave right after.”

Viktor’s shoulders seemed to droop at the words. “Oh, okay.”

“ _Vitya_.”

Viktor flinched, turning around to meet the harsh glare of his coach, Yakov. The man was standing beside Yuri and his grandfather, mouth wrinkled into a scowl aimed directly at Viktor. Yuuri had always been a little afraid of the man, but Viktor apparently had no such qualms. He shouted something back towards the man with a carefree smile before turning an apologetic look towards Yuuri.

“I’m sorry, I must leave.” He was already shuffling backwards, and Yuuri panicked as he realized this would probably be the last time they ever spoke to each other. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

He turned to leave and suddenly Yuuri couldn’t bear the thought of this being their last meeting.

“Wait,” he cried, hand snapping out to hold Viktor’s wrist. He froze as Viktor’s eyes swiveled to meet his.

Yuuri gathered his courage and met his gaze unflinchingly. “I’ll be cheering for you during your free skate. I hope you watch mine as well.”

Eyes wide, Viktor merely gazed at him for a moment before he ducked his head. When he looked up again, a small smile played over his lips and complimented the dusting of pink on his cheeks. He nodded.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” he said softly and Yuuri’s entire body felt warm.

Yakov called for Viktor again, effectively halting the moment, and the other smiled in apology before reluctantly pulling back. Yuuri watched him join his coach and family as they left the stadium. Even as Yakov was lecturing him, presumably about his earlier performance, Viktor snuck a look back at Yuuri, his long hair whipping over his shoulder like it had out on the ice. Yuuri threw up a brief wave and Viktor grinned back. Yuuri knew he ought to go find Minako for his own post-skate debriefing, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away until Viktor was gone from sight.

It was only then that he allowed himself to swoon over the rink barrier, face splitting into an impossibly wide grin. Today had been the best day.

***

“Today has been the worst day,” Yuuri groaned, tossing himself over the hotel bed. Minako immediately rolled him over so she could lug her suitcase up and begin tossing clothing in.

“Don’t be like that, kid,” she said, absently patting his leg. “You were pretty good out there. And it was your first time, remember? I didn’t expect you to medal.”

Yuuri groaned again. He hadn’t expected to medal either, but coming so low in the rankings hadn’t been in the plan either. His free skate had gone about as well as he’d expected, in that he’d popped all his jumps and fallen enough that he had a mottle of bruises across his side. At least he had a bit of an excuse this time.

Viktor hadn’t talked to him since their encounter after the short program. Yuuri didn’t blame him; he was busy practicing hard for the free skate and it looked like his coach worked him much harder than Minako ever did in their own training sessions. But that didn’t mean that Yuuri hadn’t thought of him constantly since, even when it got in the way of his own skating. It was just so difficult to focus when all he could think about was the way Viktor had smiled over his shoulder at him as he left.

“Hey.”

Yuuri startled and flipped off the bed as Minako flicked him in the nose. She stood over him, hands on her hips. “Get ready. We got a flight to catch and it’s not going to wait for your gay awakening.”

Yuuri shot her a look, rolling to his knees and rubbing at his side. “It’s not an awakening. I’ve just… realized I have feelings for someone who happens to be the same gender as me.”

“Gay feelings.”

Yuuri sighed. “Very gay feelings.”

He perched himself on the side of the bed again, hands going to his knees. Unlike Minako, he hadn’t waited until the last moment to pack and thus had nothing to distract himself from his thoughts. And yes, they were very gay.

“It’s just,” he continued, “did you see the way he skated today? I couldn’t take my eyes off him. It was just, just…”

Minako eyed him knowingly. “Magical?”

Yuuri nodded eagerly. “Yes! It was magical. His music was perfect for it, too. So mystical and mysterious. And his hair…”

“Do you like his hair?”

“I like his hair,” Yuuri confirmed and Minako laughed. She had finally gotten her suitcase to latch after throwing her entire weight on top of it, and she began doing a cursory sweep of the hotel room.

When she spoke again, her voice was muffled from checking under the beds. “Why don’t you just ask him out?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ll just ask him out.” Yuuri rolled his eyes. “Because _that’s_ a good idea.”

Minako’s head poked up near his feet and he nearly screamed. “Why wouldn’t it be? He’s only a year older than you.”

“Are you serious?” When she didn’t budge, Yuuri merely pointed at himself. Her gaze morphed into a glare and he returned it. “I’m not exactly boyfriend material.”   

“I disagree. You’re a very nice boy, Yuuri. You have a great personality.” She grinned devilishly at his unimpressed face. “Not to mention a cute butt.”

“Minako!”

“Hey, hey,” she soothed, pulling herself up onto the bed beside him. “I’m only teasing. I’m just excited, Yuuri! You’ve never been interested in anyone before. This is big!”

Yuuri glanced away. “It’s not even that I’m interested in him, exactly. I wouldn’t even want to ask him out. I just… I just want to know him. Does that make sense?”

“It makes perfect sense,” she said kindly. “But you kind of have to talk to him again to get to know him, yeah?”

“I’ve been trying to!” Yuuri exclaimed, tucking his knees under his body and turning towards her. Her eyes widened a bit at his vehemence. “It was like every time I tried to talk to him in practice yesterday he was called somewhere else. And today I was kind of too nervous, but after the skate he was swamped by reporters and things!” He sighed, shoulders slumping. “All I wanted was to tell him I watched his skating.”

“Not that you thought he was beautiful again?”

He felt a flush steal high across his cheeks. “No, I’d probably say that too.”

It was only when her hands gently circled his that he realized he had been wringing them together. She pulled them apart, drawing her fingers over the red divots he’d left on his own.

“Yuuri.” Her voice was just as gentle as her hands. “You’ll get your chance again. If not today, then at the next qualifier---”

“We don’t have another qualifier together and there’s no way I’ll make it to the final,” he interrupted. Before she could refute it, he stood and crossed the room. Minako watched him gather his things with a knowing look, though what exactly she knew that he didn’t he wasn’t sure.

As he was swinging on his jacket, she landed a hand on his shoulder. “You’d be surprised at how things like this seem to work out, Yuuri.” She gave one brief squeeze before hoisting her own bag on her shoulder. “And what’s this about not making the final? I raised you to have more confidence than that, kid. It’s like my devotion as a coach means nothing to you.”

Yuuri laughed as they left the room together. Even at her worst, Minako was always careful of his feelings and knew when to draw back. He was just glad she’d known now was one of those times.

The lobby of the hotel was bustling. Many of the reporters had followed skaters and their coaches back for last minute reports and Yuuri shrunk back under the noise, suddenly hyper-aware of the logo over his breast. Thankfully no one seemed eager to rush a low scoring skater like himself, so they made their way through relatively unnoticed.

Yuuri strained his neck looking for a flash of silver in the crowd, but his search proved fruitless. A part of him had already accepted that he wouldn’t see Viktor again, but his optimism had decided to make an appearance again and wouldn’t settle until he’d thoroughly examined all corners of the lobby.

Right as they reached the front entrance, a flash of blond hair caught his eye. Before he could turn to investigate, a small body collided with his legs and had him nearly stumbling into Minako. Large green eyes blinked up at him from beneath a knit beanie and Yuuri gasped.

“Yuri?” he asked, surprise coloring his tone before he narrowed his eyes. “Did you run away again?”

“No, this time he actually asked for help. It took us forever to find you.”

Yuuri nearly gave himself whiplash he snapped his neck up so fast. Viktor stood a few feet away, dressed in a team Russia tracksuit and armed with his media smile. His hair was down, falling sweetly around his face and over his shoulders and Yuuri almost thought he had imagined him for a moment, Viktor looked so pretty.

“Oh, Viktor. I didn’t, you weren’t…” He trailed off. It was cruel irony that he’d wished so earnestly to see Viktor all day and now couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

Viktor didn’t call him out for it. Instead, he smiled warmly. “Yura wanted to say goodbye. Go on, Yura.”

Yuri wrapped his arms tighter around Yuuri’s legs, wresting his chin on his thigh. “Bye bye, Yuuri,” he said, mouth wrapping around the words a little awkwardly.

Yuuri’s heart melted, along with his gaze. “Oh, that’s so sweet. Goodbye to you as well, Yuri. I hope we get to meet again soon.”

Yuuri turned towards Minako and they both shared heart eyes. She slung an arm around Yuuri’s shoulder, smiling down at Yuri.

“So, you’re a fan of Yuuri’s, huh?” she asked. Yuri’s gaze sharpened, glaring up at her, and Yuuri laughed.

“He doesn’t speak English, _baka_.”

Minako reeled back and stared at him in shock. “Oh, so you get one admirer and suddenly have an attitude problem, yeah?”

Yuuri shrugged. “I’ve never had a fan before. It’s a heady feeling.”

Minako snorted, ruffling his hair. “Whatever you say. _Baka_.”

Yuuri felt a tugging on his shirt and looked down to find Yuri with a small pout and furrowed brows. “Yuuri. _Baka_?”

“Oh. Um.” He looked to Minako for help, but she merely smirked back. He thought for a moment before twirling a finger in a loose circle over his head and crossing his eyes. “Baka is silly. Dumb. Kind of.” He shrugged. Close enough.

Yuri seemed to accept the answer, mouthing the word to himself and testing out its weight. Yuuri was about to feel bad about teaching him one of the less savory phrases of his native tongue when Viktor suddenly cleared his throat. He looked at Yuuri like he wanted to say something but his gaze flickered to Minako before he dropped it.

Yuuri turned imploring eyes on her as well, hoping that this was one of the moments where she understood his feelings better than he did himself. She must have picked up something, because she squeezed his shoulder and winked, stepping back.

“I’m going to go catch us a cab. Come on out when you’re ready, yeah?”

Yuuri nodded, already planning how he could thank her later. He waited for her to haul their luggage out front before turning back to Viktor. He belatedly realized that he still had a child-sized parasite attached to his legs and he grinned bashfully.

“Sorry,” he joked, gently peeling Yuri off him, “I must really look like a kidnapper now.”

Viktor shuffled closer. “No, no, I’m just glad he caught you before you left. I thought we’d missed you.”

So Viktor had been looking for him too? Yuuri squashed down the fan-girl scream that lodged in his throat. “I hope you weren’t looking long.”

“No, not too long.” Viktor kicked at the ground; the action looked strangely out of place on him. He suddenly looked up, meeting Yuuri’s gaze directly. “I wanted you to know I watched your free skate.”

“Oh.” Yuuri blinked, a little stunned. Viktor had said he would, of course, but it was a little different hearing about it beforehand than actually knowing it had happened.

“Thank you,” he rushed to say. “I’m… I’m very glad.”

“You skated wonderfully.”

Oh, and there was his blush. And the gay feelings. Glad those could make it, too.

“Well. It was nothing compared to yours,” he said meekly. Viktor seemed to light up, his eyes flashing nearly cerulean.

“You watched me skate?”

“I couldn’t look away,” Yuuri admitted quietly. He almost regretted it, but Viktor’s answering blush was worth a thousand embarrassing confessions. He probably would have went on to tell Viktor all about the embarrassing and vaguely voyeuristic things he’d been thinking about him since seeing him skate, but fortunately a man knocked into Yuuri and disrupted the spell they’d both been under. Viktor suddenly looked around wildly.

“Sorry, I should probably get back. My coach will be looking for me.”

Yuuri suddenly really didn’t want this moment to end. Before Viktor could run off, probably never to talk to Yuuri again, he blurted out, “Do you have Skype?”

“Oh. Yes.” Viktor blinked at him. “Why?”

“Would you want to trade information? I know you’re, um, busy, but I thought maybe…” He shrugged nervously. This was such a bad idea. He should just leave before he embarrassed himself any more. “It’s okay, I’ll just…”

“Wait!”

 Yuuri jumped at Viktor’s exclamation. The other seemed surprised too, his cheeks coloring at the outburst.

“I’m sorry,” he said bashfully. “I would love to trade information. If you want to?”

Yuuri nodded quickly. He patted at his pockets. “Here let me…” Pulling out his phone, he quickly traded it for Viktor’s. They exchanged info and Viktor grinned down at his phone when Yuuri handed it back.

“Thank you, Yuuri,” he said, clutching it tight to his chest. “We should stay in contact.”

“Of course! You can message me anytime!” Damn, that sounded too desperate. “I’m kind of an insomniac, so I’ll probably even respond at night.” What was wrong with him?

Viktor’s grin only grew, though, lighting up his entire face. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear and Yuuri realized he was seeing the face of god.

“I will,” Viktor said. “I’ll message you. We’ll talk.”

Yuuri grinned back, feeling stupidly happy. “Yeah, of course!”

They grinned stupidly at each other for a moment before Viktor glanced off to the side. Whatever he saw made him immediately straighten, and only then did Yuuri realize how close they’d migrated.

“I should probably let you catch your flight. Yura,” he called, stretching out his hand for Yuri to take. He smiled apologetically at Yuuri. “I’m so glad we caught you. I’ll talk to you later, right?”

He almost looked uncertain again, so Yuuri nodded decidedly. Viktor’s answering smile was relieved.

“Okay then. Goodbye, Yuuri.”

“Goodbye, Viktor.”

Yuri elbowed Viktor in the side so he could lunge forward, pushing to his tiptoes to wave at Yuuri. “Bye bye, Yuuri!”

Laughing, Yuuri waved back. “Bye bye, Yuri!”

With one last smile, Viktor pulled Yuri along with him, presumably to meet up with his coach. Yuuri quickly lost them to the crowd, but he lingered for a moment, grinning madly. He glanced down at his phone. His heart beat erratically at Viktor’s contact information on the screen and if he hadn’t been so concerned about public image he might have spun around in a victory dance. As it was, he could barely refrain from hugging his phone to his chest and giggling like an idiot. But he was an idiot.

“An idiot in love,” he told Minako as he met her on the sidewalk. She cuffed him over the head, but pulled him into her side as she lamented over her “ _baka_ Yuuri” and his new crush. It was entirely true, but Yuuri didn’t care. His heart was too full for it.


	2. Chapter 2

Yuuri worked hard for his next qualifier, harder than he’d ever worked before. This meant rising with the sun to jog the beach, spending hours in Minako’s studio dry running his routines, and driving himself hard on the ice while Minako shouted instructions from the barrier. All, of course, fitted tightly around his school schedule. Each night he barely had the energy to pull himself out of the onsen and collapse in bed with the thought that he’d wake the next morning and do it all over again. More than once he caught himself wondering why he’d ever thought he could be a figure skater in the first place. His body just wasn’t cut out for this type of work.

His family grew weary of his intense training schedule. Mari would frown any time she caught him falling asleep over his homework and his father had subtly started trying to give him larger portions at mealtimes. Not even Minako seemed to fully understand his drive, though she did her best to allow him her studio or guidance whenever he needed it. He knew his family would always support him in anything he chose to do, but he’d never been so serious about his skating before and he thought he might be scaring them. They just didn’t get it, though; he had to qualify for the final, no matter the cost.

The only bright side to the past few weeks was, of course, Viktor.

[Viktor]: _Yuuri! Makkachin had his hair in pigtails today, look how cute he is!_

[Viktor]: _I heard that new Taylor Swift song. Ask me how I feel._

[Viktor]: _Never mind, don’t ask. I hated it._

[Viktor]: _Did you ever get your triple lutz down?  I fell on mine today too! How weird is that?_

Yuuri grinned down at his phone. Viktor had a habit of barraging him with messages any time he had a break, which happened to line up with Yuuri’s quite often since he practiced in the afternoon while Viktor’s was in the morning.

Resting against the barrier, he typed out his response.   

[Yuuri]: _He certainly is cute! I love the bows <3 Oh no about you falling though! I must have passed on my curse! Or maybe it was Taylor Swift? She seems the type to curse someone for hating her music._

Viktor’s response came immediately.

[Viktor]: _oH GOD YOURE RIGHT, SHES OUT TO GET ME YUURI_

Yuuri laughed. It was a new feeling, having someone to talk to outside of his family. Things had been kind of awkward and stilted at first; Yuuri didn’t always know how to keep a conversation flowing and they were both constantly busy with schoolwork and training, but they had finally found a rhythm and level of comfort with each other that worked. Now it wasn’t uncommon for them to keep a conversation going throughout the entire day.  

His phone chimed again.

[Viktor]: _You have to help me Yuuri, what do I do now? I have a dog to feed, I can’t be cursed!_

[Yuuri]: _Your only chance is to leave the country. Change you name to Juan and make your way to Mexico. Maybe try to grow a mustache?_

[Viktor]: _I can’t grow a mustache and I’m allergic to avocados._

[Yuuri]: _What does that have to do with moving to Mexico?_

[Viktor]: _Guacamole is an entire food group there, Yuuri. I couldn’t ask them to not eat an entire food group around me, could I?_

Yuuri had to muffle his snickers in his sleeve. In the past couple of weeks, Viktor had made him laugh more than he probably had in the past year. His humor had just been so unexpected, though he wasn’t sure why. Viktor was good at skating and smiling and existing; why wouldn’t he be funny too? Yuuri just filed it under the list of other things he was steadily learning about him, along with his favorite book, his sleep schedule, and the way his laugh sounded over the tinny speakers of Yuuri’s phone.

_You’re right_ , he messaged back. _What was I thinking? Guess you’ll just have to suffer it out. How was practice today?_

They messaged back and forth for a little while more before Minako called him back to the ice. He typed out a quick goodbye and smiled at Viktor’s response.

[Viktor]: _Okay! Good luck on your lutz—don’t let Taylor Swift get you too!_

Tossing his phone on top of his bag, Yuuri skated to the center of the rink. He almost felt like he could beat the odds (and Taylor Swift) and actually make that jump.

***

He didn’t make that jump. Or any of them, actually. When he finally took to the ice in Tallinn and felt the weight of all his hopes and dreams rest on his shoulders, he crashed. Hard. 

***

“Yuuri.”

Yuuri turned over, burying himself further into his blankets.

“Yuuri?”

He drew his pillow over his head, but it did little to muffle the knocking at his door.

“Come on, kid, open up! You’ve been holed up in there for days!”

Yuuri mentally cursed. His mom had Minako in on this too. There was no way he was getting out of it now. At least they wouldn’t infringe on his privacy and come in anyway.

“Fine, we’re coming in anyway.”

Not for the first time, he wished his door had a lock.

There was the sound of the door sliding open, some footsteps, and then a weight by his head on the bed.  A hand pet at the hair sticking up on his pillow and he curled away from it. He heard a tired sigh and a surge of guilt flared up in his chest. It fit in nicely beside the disappointment, despair, and self-loathing.

“Yuuri, sweetheart, please talk to us. You’ve been worrying everyone.”

Oh god, his mother was going right for the heart.

“And you really stink, kid. How long since you bathed?”

And there was Minako going for his pride. They really were the dynamic duo.

Minako continued, “How long you gonna stay in your little nest and block out the rest of the world?”

“Forever,” he finally mumbled back, and he could practically feel the relief radiating off them both.

“It’s not the end of the world,” Minako said. “You’re only fifteen—er, sixteen now—Yuuri. You have so much time left. Plenty of time to improve before trying again next year.”

But Viktor was competing _this_ year. The memory of his skating was still fresh in Yuuri’s mind, playing behind his eyelids every time he closed them and leaving him aching. It wasn’t just that he wanted to skate like Viktor; he wanted to skate _with_ him, on the same ice. And the only way to do that had been to nail his qualifier in Estonia and make it to the final.

And he’d ruined that chance.

“It’s okay to be upset, Yuuri,” his mother said, laying a hand on top of the covers over his shoulder. “You worked really hard for something and it didn’t work out. You’re allowed to be mad.”

And that was really it, wasn’t it? Slowly, he sat up and pulled his knees to his chest. The blanket was still pulled up to his chin, but he could see his mother and Minako blearily out of the corner of his eyes.

“I am mad,” he said quietly. “I’m mad that I’m not going, but…” He paused and they both waited patiently for him to work it out himself. “I think I’m more mad at myself. For ruining my own chances. For being weak.”

He finally chanced a look over. His mother was seated on the bed next to him, hands folded neatly over her lap and reassuring smile on her face. Minako stood behind her. Her hands were on her hips, but her eyes were laser focused on him, listening intently. Even through all the heaviness burdening his heart, he felt a lick of gratitude because he’d never have to worry about facing the hurt alone.

His mother reached for his hand and he let her take it. “You aren’t weak, Yuuri. We’re all so proud of how hard you’ve worked. And,” she added before he could misinterpret that, “we’re all so excited for what you’re going to achieve in the future.”

“I didn’t get to see Viktor, though,” he said, plucking at a stray thread on his comforter. “Now I won’t be able to see him until next year.”

Minako laughed. “It’s not like he’s going to forget you or anything. You two talk nearly constantly.”

“Not lately, we haven’t.”

“Well, whose fault is that?”

At Minako’s accusing tone, Yuuri hunched in on himself. He’d been avoiding Viktor’s calls and messages ever since the competition and the guilt only grew every time he even thought of the other.

“I need to call him,” he said and Minako nodded sagely.

“Sure do. “

“Invite him to visit sometime,” his mother chimed in. “You could show him the beach and the onsen. I’m sure he would have time in the off season.”

Yuuri considered it: Viktor laughing in the summer sun, ankle deep in the surf; sitting at their family table and fumbling with a pair of chopsticks; tying his hair up and sinking up to his chest in the onsen--- Okay, yeah, he really liked the idea.

“I’ll mention it to him,” he said, hoping his face didn’t betray his thoughts. It must not have, because his mother patted his hand kindly.

“But don’t get too distracted,” Minako suddenly cut in. “You get your little break, but I _do_ expect a medal next year.”

Yuuri laughed wetly, wiping at his eyes a little. He still didn’t really feel good, exactly, but he felt better. Good enough that he took a large breath in and braced himself.

“Okay, what did you guys do?”

“Not much, not much,” Minako said, grinning slyly. “Your parents made katsudon.”

Yuuri frowned. “I didn’t win anything. If you’ll remember, I actually did really poorly---”

“Ah,” Minako interrupted, throwing a single finger in the air. “But today is a special day and special days warrant special exceptions.”

Yuuri eyed her warily. He turned to his mother. “Okaasan,” he whined and she smiled warmly as she handed him his glasses.

“Don’t worry, Yuu-chan. I made sure they didn’t go overboard.”

They hadn’t. Dinner was a small affair, only his parents, Mari, and Minako in attendance. Yuuri hated any amount of extra attention, so the only thing out of the ordinary was that he was eating katsudon for the first time in months. He sighed after he’d picked up the last grain of rice; there really was nothing better than katsudon.

“Yuuri,” Mari called as he finished his last bite. “Close your eyes for a second, okay?”

Yuuri immediately snapped his gaze to his mother. “Okaasan, you promised!”

She merely smiled back and he sighed, closing his eyes and resigning himself to whatever his family (read: Mari and Minako) had prepared for him. Before he could steam over it too much, something warm and fuzzy was being placed in his lap. He gasped, eyes snapping open as the something wiggled eagerly in his arms and began licking at his face.

“A poodle!” he exclaimed, nearly keeling over as the puppy placed its front paws on his chest and yipped. He quickly scooped it up and nuzzled at its wet nose. “I can’t believe, how did you---?”

“You wouldn’t shut up about that Russian kid and his dog,” Mari deadpanned, though Yuuri could see the hint of a smile on her lips. “So we thought you might like one too.”

Pressure built up behind his eyes, and Yuuri found himself blinking back tears for the second time that evening. “Thank you. I… this really means a lot.”

He sniffed and Minako leaned over to ruffle the puppy’s ears. “So?” she prompted. “What are you going to name her?”

Yuuri paused for a moment, staring deep into the puppy’s eyes. She stared back and Yuuri suddenly knew exactly what she wanted to be called.

***

Later as he was settling into bed, Viktor curled into his side and already snoozing, Yuuri realized that he should probably call Viktor. Human Viktor, that is. At first he’d been too afraid that he had seen his scores and would want nothing more to do with him, but now he just didn’t even know how to start the conversation. _Hi, sorry I’ve been avoiding you for a couple days, but I named my dog after you, let’s be buddies again?_ That was too desperate, even for him.

He wrung his hands together for a moment before deciding to go simple. Pulling out his phone, he typed a simple, _Hey, are you free to Skype?_

He tossed his phone to the other side of the bed and hid his face in Viktor’s fur. It wasn’t two seconds later that it chimed. He lunged across the bed, glasses going crooked as he brought it to his face.

[Viktor]: _yes_

Yuuri’s breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t exactly thought Viktor would answer; after all, it wasn’t even six in the morning there yet. Opening his computer, his hands shook a bit as he brought up Skype. He sat there a moment trying to bring himself to click Viktor’s name. Before he could gather the courage, an incoming call popped up, Viktor’s avatar smiling at him from the center of the screen. Yuuri hurriedly slammed the accept key.

Viktor’s face appeared, looking a tad pixelated, but just as beautiful as ever. His hair was swept back out of his face in an intricate braid, and it made Yuuri all the more aware of his current state of dishevelment. Viktor was biting at his lip, but as soon as he saw Yuuri his face lit up in a smile.

“Yuuri!” he said, voice coming out warped through Yuuri’s dingy speakers. “I am so glad you messaged! I was beginning to worry.”

Yuuri pulled the laptop over his lap, settling back into his pillows. “I’m sorry, Viktor. I was going through some, um, personal things. I should have let you know I was okay.”

“The competition in Estonia?” Viktor guessed and Yuuri nodded, avoiding eye contact. He was glad that the ISU didn’t televise junior qualifiers or else Viktor might be looking at him with a little more disgust instead of sympathy. “I’m sorry, Yuuri. I know how much you wanted to qualify.”

Yuuri shrugged. “It’s okay. I’ll just be extra ready for next year. Congratulations to you, though. Another gold!”

“Thank you!” Viktor beamed.  

“People are saying you’re a shoe-in for gold in Tokyo. Worlds too!”

“We will see,” Viktor said meekly, but he was practically preening from the praise. His smile turned a little devious. “I am much more interested in the day _you_ had though.”

Yuuri froze. He couldn’t possibly know…

“Happy birthday, Yuuri!” Viktor shouted, leaning in towards the screen and grinning. Yuuri threw both his hands over his own face and groaned.

“Who told you?”

“No one,” Viktor said, smug. “I looked it up all on my own. You may refuse to own any social media accounts, but the ISU has a profile on you on their website.” He tilted his head. “So? How did it go?”

“Um… Well, I sulked most of the day.”

“Okay.”

“And then I refused to leave my bed.”

“Great.”

“I wallowed in self-pity for a while.”

“A birthday tradition.”

“And then I had katsudon with my family.”

Viktor perked up. “That is the one you told me about before, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Yuuri confirmed. “I haven’t had it for a while, so that was nice. Oh!” He shuffled around so he could include his snoozing puppy in the screen. “My family got me a puppy! Doesn’t she look like a little Makkachin?”

Viktor slapped both of his hands to his cheeks. “She is amazing, Yuuri! Oh my god, so cute! What is her name?”

“Oh, it’s Vi---” He paused. Crap, friends didn’t tell other friends they named their dog after them. When Yuuri didn’t immediately answer, Viktor frowned.

“Yuuri? Did the screen freeze?”

Yuuri shook his head. “No, no, no! Um, the screen’s fine. I just…” He thought frantically. “Vicchan. Her name is Vicchan.” He hoped to god Viktor didn’t know anything about the Japanese honorifics system.

Viktor’s confusion melted under a warm smile. “Vicchan. I love it. I think she and Makka would be great friends.”

“The best,” Yuuri agreed, the image of the two poodles playing together warming his heart. His smile must have turned wistful, because Viktor mirrored it across the screen.

“I have missed you, Yuuri.”

At his sincere look, Yuuri blushed a little. “I’ve missed you too. I had been hoping we could see each other at the final, but…”

“Yeah, I wanted to as well,” Viktor agreed gently. “But it’s okay. We can still talk like this whenever we want.”

“Definitely!”

“You'll still cheer for me in the final, right?”

“Of course,” Yuuri said. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

Viktor’s grin was blinding, it shined so sweetly. Even through the poor quality of the screen, Yuuri couldn’t even think of looking away.

A faint voice suddenly sounded from Viktor’s side, and he looked off-screen for a moment, nodding. When he turned back, he looked apologetic.

“I have got to go out and run, Yuuri, but I am so glad you messaged me!”

“I’m glad I messaged you, too,” Yuuri said. “I’ll make sure not to be so long next time.”

“You better,” Viktor teased. “I was so sad I almost related to Taylor Swift.”

Yuuri laughed. “I’m sorry I drove you to such lengths. I promise I’ll never push you so hard again.” 

“Good.” The teasing light faded from his eyes and he regarded Yuuri warmly. “I am glad you had a good birthday, Yuuri. I will talk to you soon?”

Yuuri nodded and they exchanged their goodbyes. Yuuri’s screen froze on Viktor’s smile before fading to black. He tossed his laptop to the side before curling up to Vicchan. A thought had begun niggling at the back of his mind, something about Viktor and cheering him on at the final, but whatever it was could wait for morning. For now, he let the residual warmth from Vicchan’s body and Viktor’s smile carry him into his dreams.

***

An important thing Yuuri had gradually learned about Viktor was that he loved surprises. He’d confided in Yuuri late one night over the phone that winning was less satisfying for him than surprising his audience. He didn’t see the point in performing if it wasn’t going to be something they had never seen before and would likely never see again. It was something Yuuri really liked about him, even if he didn’t fully understand it himself.   

So when his mother finally agreed to let Minako take him to see the Junior Grand Prix Final in Tokyo as an “educational experience,” Yuuri decided to leave it as a surprise for Viktor. He just hoped Viktor loved surprises for himself as much as he loved being the one to deliver them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading:)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I suck at updating:)

Minako’s head flopped over onto his shoulder, and Yuuri grimaced as she began to drool. He poked at her cheek a bit, but her breath reeked of the little travel sized bottles of sake she’d smuggled onto the train that morning and he deemed her too incapacitated to move. Sighing, he moved to face the window and turned up the volume on his headphones.

The scenery outside flew by too quickly for him to really watch. It wasn’t his first time on a bullet train, but it was the first time he’d been so nervous and the gentle rocking motion of the car was making him a little sick. He needed to get it together, though, because they still had the flight to Tokyo and the cab ride to the stadium after this. It was going to be a long trip and it would really suck to be this on edge the entire time.

He was just so excited. And nervous. Seeing Viktor again had been all he’d thought about for the past couple of months and now that it was finally happening he didn’t know what to feel. His body was so full of energy that his veins coursed with it, leaving him constantly shifting in his seat. At this point, he wasn’t sure if the funny feeling in his gut came from those weird butterflies people always talked about or nausea. Probably nausea. He didn’t know how he was going to last the rest of this train ride.

A series of buzzes from his phone alerted him that he had new messages and he hurried to pull it out of his pocket.

[Viktor]: _I started this book about the origins of ww2 on the plane but I only got about half way through and now Yakov is yelling at me to stop reading and focus. I have to know though, it sounds like this hitler guy wants to invade Poland but he promised he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t break his promise right?_

[Viktor]: _Yakov and Lilia have made me dry run my routine at least ten times already and it’s not even 8. How many times you want to bet I will do it before my short program in another 8 hours?_

 [Viktor]: _OH GOD YUURI HITLER INVADED POLAND HE SAID HE WOULDN’T WHAT A JERK WHO DOES THAT_

Yuuri snickered and Minako snored into his ear.

[Yuuri]: _I didn’t know you liked history so much. I’m sorry Hitler duped you._

[Viktor]: _He duped the whole world, Yuuri. I don’t think it was personal._

[Viktor]: _I do like history though^^_

[Viktor]: _It was one of my favorite subjects in school._

Yuuri sat up a little straighter at that. Viktor rarely shared much about his life outside of skating.

[Yuuri]: _Was?_

[Viktor]: _I got my GED last year so we could increase my practice regimen. It was the right decision._

Yuuri realized that Viktor would have only been 15 at the time. He couldn’t imagine skating and working towards his GED at the same time, especially not with all of his obligations to his family and the onsen on top of it. Here Viktor was working hard for his career and Yuuri still sometimes poured the milk in before his cereal.

[Yuuri]: _Wow Viktor, that’s amazing! I didn’t realize I was chatting with a genius._

[Viktor]: _Haha no, I just didn’t have time for practice and school. I’m definitely not a genius._

[Yuuri]: _Idk. You know a lot of really cool things. Sounds like a genius to me._

[Viktor]: _Not really. I do kind of miss school sometimes, though. I guess I’ll just stick to my books now._

[Yuuri]: _Have you gotten to the part where Hitler invades Czechoslovakia?_

[Viktor]: _!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

Viktor didn’t respond for a while after that, and Yuuri assumed he was being hounded by his coach again. Scrolling through their conversation, he frowned. Viktor had a habit of avoiding talking about his home life and Yuuri had always just assumed he was a private person. He could understand that. He was pretty reserved too. But the small glimpses he did get usually seemed a little off.

Like Viktor saying getting his GED early was “the right decision.” The right decision for whom, Yuuri had to wonder. Viktor said he liked school and Yuuri didn’t know why he couldn’t do both. Of course, Viktor was a rising star in the skating world and would probably get gold at the final and worlds; there had to be sacrifices for that kind of dedication. The whole thing still bothered him, though, and it wasn’t helped by the fact that Yakov Feltsman seemed to be a very demanding coach. Viktor had just had a 12 hour flight recently. It seemed a little ridiculous for him to have to run his routine so intensely just hours before his performance.  

Yuuri sighed, sinking lower in his seat. He was speculating, and with very little to go on. He just hoped Viktor gradually came to trust him more and would tell him about his life himself.

It was about 15 minutes before his and Minako’s stop that he got another message from Viktor.

[Viktor]: _Do not make fun of me, but I have to tell you something._

[Yuuri]: _I would never. What’s up?_

[Viktor]: _So I have this lucky hair tie. I have worn it for every performance this year, and so far it has worked._

[Yuuri]: _It’s worked really well, I’d say._

[Yuuri]: _Also that’s not weird. I have to touch the ice with my hand every time I go out for a performance or else something feels wrong. We all have our rituals._

[Viktor]: _There is more._ _I also have my Makkachin tissue box, right? For the kiss and cry? And I always have to give him cuddles before a competition because he gets lonely and real Makka is not here to keep him company._

Yuuri knew how Viktor felt. He’d only been away from Vicchan for a couple hours now and he already missed her like crazy.

[Viktor]: _Well, I thought I would try and tie his hair up like I do for Makka, but I USED MY LUCKY HAIR TIE AND IT BROKE YUURI WHAT DO I DO I BROKE MY LUCKY HAIR TIE I AM GOING TO LOSE NOW_ _T_T_

[Yuuri]: _Oh no!_

[Viktor]: _YES OH NO IT IS REALLY BAD YAKOV WILL KILL ME_

Yuuri thought Viktor was probably just playing around, but he couldn’t be sure. Skater superstition went really far for some (himself included). He doubted someone as skilled as Viktor could be shaken by a silly hair tie, but he typed back anyway.

[Yuuri]: _Wait, wait, calm down. You could still wear it, but maybe just try tying it to your ponytail instead? Like, around another one?_

[Viktor]: _Yuuri! That is brilliant!_

The praise left a light dusting of pink over Yuuri’s cheeks.

[Viktor]: _You are the real genius here! You have saved me from impending death by angry Yakov! You are amazing:)_

As Yuuri was steaming in his seat from the praise, a picture popped up as another message. It showed Viktor, team track suit on with his hair up in its usual competition ponytail. His eyes sparkled as he grinned at the camera, the Makkachin plushy cuddled up under his chin.

[Viktor]: _Plushy Makka says thank you for helping! Don’t worry, he already apologized for breaking my lucky hair tie._

The weird butterflies/nausea came back full force as he gazed down at the picture. He wanted to stroke over the picture with his thumb, but he thought that might be weird. Then again, he’d already named his dog after his best friend, so he was kind of past the point where he needed to worry about personal boundaries.

He stroked his thumb down the picture.

[Yuuri]: _I am glad I could help! And tell Plushy Makka it was not a problem. I would never leave a friend in need._

[Viktor]: _Thanks Yuuri._

[Viktor]: _You will be watching right?_

[Yuuri]: _You know I will be._

[Viktor]: _< 3_

Yuuri smiled as the train began to slow, Minako blearily blinking herself awake and wiping the drool from her chin beside him. He was definitely going to be watching. Perhaps a little closer than Viktor thought.

***

The arena for the final that year was stunning. Minako told him it was the same one that had been used for the Olympics in the 60’s, so a lot of money had been dropped on its construction. The elegant swoop of the roof and line of windows certainly looked exuberant, the modern architecture especially bright against the distant backdrop of Yoyogi Park. It cut an impressive figure, certainly, and Yuuri couldn’t wait to see the rink.

He rushed Minako through the crowds of people pushing in on all sides. She kept trying to drag him over to check out merchandise or ogle skater butts, but Yuuri was on a mission and it didn’t include her perverted fantasies involving dance belts and half of the senior level skaters.

He did have to pause occasionally to take it all in, though. This was the first time he was getting to experience the final through something other than his computer screen and he wanted to see it all. The air sparked with anticipation, almost tangibly electric, and the space hummed with the voices of hundreds of people as they filled the bleachers. It was hands down the most exciting thing Yuuri had ever done and all he could think of was sharing it with Viktor.

He’d texted Viktor earlier wishing him luck and reminding him that he would be watching, but Viktor hadn’t answered. Yuuri figured he was busy getting ready for the final and thought he wouldn’t bother him until after the short program. As disappointing as it might feel, Viktor was competing today and couldn’t devote all of his time to Yuuri. He probably wouldn’t even want to anyway. He had to have many friends among the other skaters and Yuuri would hate to get in the way of that.

As the first skater took to the ice, Yuuri realized that watching a competition felt different than participating. For one, Yuuri wasn’t an anxious mess and could actually focus on the other competitors without getting tunnel vision. He found that it was actually quite nice when he wasn’t the one being judged. For two, everything went a lot quicker than it did when he was waiting for his turn. Viktor wouldn’t skate until the second group, but the first went quickly enough and before he realized it the last skater was leaving the ice for the kiss and cry.

It was during the break between groups that Yuuri spotted a familiar head of blond hair at the bottom of the bleachers. Little Yuri sat at the very front of the bleachers, prattling on to his grandfather about something while gesturing grandly at the ice. The older man smiled indulgently down at the boy, nodding along in all the right places.

Yuuri smiled and pointed them out to Minako.

“Looks like Yuri came to see Viktor, too.”

Minako mirrored his grin. “What a cutie. Look at his little jacket!”

All the way from here Yuuri could see the large tiger growling from the boy’s back, the word “Japan” scrawled below its claws. It was horrendous, but oddly fitting for the boy. Yuuri snickered.

“Pretty sure he got that from Harajuku,” he said and Minako nodded.

“For sure. It’s the only place that would sell something so tacky.” She suddenly stood. “We should go say hello!”

Yuuri grabbed for her arm, trying in vain to tug her back to her seat. “No, we can’t just go over there! We’d be a bother.”

“Nonsense!” she cried, already pulling him along down the stairs. “He’s your biggest fan, remember? You’ve got to learn to be nice to your fans, Yuuri.”

Yuuri dragged his heels. “He’s not my fan and he doesn’t speak English! We can’t even talk to him---Minako!”

She unceremoniously shoved him forward until he was stumbling up to Yuri and his grandfather. They didn’t notice him at first, so he cleared his throat.

“Um,” he said, scratching at the back of his neck. Yuri’s gaze snapped to his, eyes narrowed and guarded before suddenly widening as he took him in. Yuuri gave a little wave. “Hello Yuri.”

The boy gawked at him. Without warning, his cheeks colored and he pushed back and drew his grandfather’s arm over him, only one wide green eye peeking around the edge of his cuff. Yuuri faltered, rocking back on his heels. Shit, he _was_ just bothering them.

“Um, sorry for disturbing you,” he began to Yuri’s grandfather. “We’ll just be on our way then---”

The older man only laughed. “No worry,” he said in a rough accent. “Yura is shy. Please.” He gestured to two seats beside theirs. “Please take.”

Yuuri quickly bowed, waving his arms back and forth. “No, no, it’s okay---”

“We’d love to!” Minako exclaimed. She pinched Yuuri’s arm when he began to protest. “Thank you for the invitation, Mr…?”

“Nikolai. Please call me Nikolai,” the man said and Minako grinned.

“Pleased to meet you, Nikolai. My name is Minako and I think you’ve already met my student Yuuri.”

Yuuri glared at her, but he obligingly took a seat between her and Yuri. The boy was openly staring up at him now. He still had his back pressed against his grandfather’s side, but he no longer looked like he was about to bolt at any moment. The same could not be said for Yuuri. Interacting with people he didn’t know well, especially people who spoke English only as a very broken second language, figured pretty high on his anxiety list. It wasn’t quite talking on the phone level, but it still sucked. He realized he was wringing his hands together and subtly sat on them.

“I never thank you,” Nikolai said gruffly. “Last time, when Yura…” He seemed to be searching for the right word. “When you have Yura. And help. Thank you.”

Yuuri blushed. “Oh, it was no problem! Yuri is so sweet. It didn’t bother me at all.” Yuri perked up at the sound of his name, rising to his knees and gazing at Yuuri intently.

“Me?” he asked, hand going to his chest. “Me name?”

Yuuri gasped and then cooed, “Have you learned more English, Yuri?”

“Yes,” Nikolai answered. His eyes were fond and a bit proud as he gazed down at his grandson. “He learn with Vitya.”

“Skate!” Yuri yelled, pointing to the rink. “Vitya skate. Yuuri skate!”

Yuuri smiled and clapped softly. “Very good, Yuri!”

Yuri beamed. He turned so Yuuri could see the back of his jacket. “Tiger! Yuuri, tiger!” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Yuuri had seen before twisting back around and planting his hands on Yuuri’s thigh. His bashfulness seemed to have disappeared with the chance to show off.

“Dog!” He looked around for one to point to and frowned. Yuuri laughed and pulled out his phone case.

“Like this?” he asked and Yuri gasped.

 “Dog! Dog! Makkachin dog!” He took the phone and pointed at the poodle pattern on the back.

“That’s right, Yuri. Just like Makkachin,” Yuuri said, smiling. “That’s amazing! You’ve learned so much already!”

Yuri giggled, cheeks ruddy and eyes pleased. He sat back on his heels and Nikolai placed a hand on his head.

“You are kind,” Nikolai said to Yuuri. Yuuri shook his head, but Nikolai waved off his protests.  “You are kind with Yura. And are friend to Vitya. Very kind.”

People were beginning to return to their seats, but Yuuri was no longer paying attention to the preparations on the ice.

“He’s mentioned me?” he asked, leaning forward. When Nikolai didn’t seem to understand, he reiterated, “He talks about me? Viktor?”

Nikolai chuckled, the sound a deep rumble in his chest. “I do not see him much, but he tell Yura and Yura tell me.”

Yuuri bit at the smile that wanted to break across his face. “Oh. That’s nice.”

“Well, our Yuuri hasn’t stopped talking about Viktor, either,” Minako suddenly piped up beside him. “In fact, he just got a poodle because Viktor had one and named it---”

“So Viktor is your grandson as well?” Yuuri asked loudly, angling his body so that it blocked Minako from the other two. He crossed his legs and set his head in his hand, ignoring the smirk aimed at the back of his head.

Nikolai shook his head. “We live at Moscow and Vitya at Sankt-Peterburg. Not grandson, no. But Yura’s family.”

Even if the question had just been meant as a diversion tactic, Nikolai’s words soothed a part of Yuuri that had been itching for a while now. It was ridiculous, but with the way Viktor dodged the topic of family he’d almost begun to think he didn’t have any. In any case, it was nice to know now that he at least shared some with Yuri.

Just then, an announcement came over the speakers and the first skater in the second group took to the ice. Viktor would skate after this one, and Yuuri felt his nerves return full force. His feet tapped out an uneven rhythm on the floor and he clenched both hands into fists tight enough to leave pink crescent moons on his palms. The skater performed their entire routine and Yuuri couldn’t even recall which genre of music they used. As they left for the kiss and cry, Viktor finally met the ice.

Yuri tugged on his sleeve, bouncing in his seat excitedly. “Vitya skate, Yuuri!”

“Yes, Viktor is about to skate.” His gaze didn’t leave Viktor’s slim figure making warm-up laps around the rink. Yuri’s eyes were large as he too watched Viktor glide to the center of the ice and strike his first pose.

“Pretty.”

“Yes,” Yuuri breathed out. “Very pretty.”

And he was. Viktor met the ice and danced and Yuuri couldn’t look away.

When he finished, it was to thunderous applause and a shower of flowers and gifts. He did a lap around the rink, chest heaving and cheeks red from exertion. His smile showed none of his exhaustion as he bent to pick up a gift and wave to his fans. When he passed by, his gaze briefly flicked up to where Yuuri and the others were sitting and he thought he might have done a double take. He couldn’t be sure, though, as Viktor’s smile never faltered and he skated over to the boards for the kiss and cry.

Heart still beating erratically from the potential connection and performance, Yuuri waited for Viktor’s scores with bated breath. Yuri seemed to be nervous too. He bounced impatiently in his seat, eyes fixed on the scoreboard on the other side of the rink. When Viktor’s scores were announced—high, very high—and his name jumped to the top of the board, Yuri let out a little whoop and threw his mitten covered hands in the air.

“Vitya skate good!” he announced. He grabbed for Yuuri’s arm. “Vitya skate good, Yuuri!”

Yuuri nodded enthusiastically. He still felt like he couldn’t quite catch his breath enough to talk. Viktor didn’t just skate good; he had been _amazing_.

Minako leaned around him. “What’s wrong, Yuuri? Did Viktor steal your breath away?”

_Absolutely_.  

“No,” he said instead because Minako might know how weird his obsession ran but she was old and perverted so it was okay. Yuri, on the other hand, was young and decidedly not perverted and he’d like to keep it that way. “He just skated really well. And scored high. It was good.”

_So damn good._

“Uh-huh,” she drawled and Yuuri’s blush only grew. He tried to hide it with a hand when he was suddenly assaulted by a four year old.

“Yuuri good!” Yuri stated, arms flung over Yuuri’s shoulders and eyes heated as they stared up at Minako. She looked surprised for a moment before grinning impossibly wide.

“Aw, are you protecting Yuuri?”

Yuri, who probably had no idea what she had said, merely glared. He looked about ready to attack, so Yuuri patted a hand awkwardly on his back.

“It’s okay, Yuri. She’s just teasing.” The boy’s metaphorical hackles only rose higher. “She doesn’t mean anything by it, really.”

A terse word from his grandfather had Yuri sitting up and pouting, but not before he shot Minako another seething look. “ _Baka_ ,” he muttered under his breath. Yuuri caught Minako’s eye and they both nearly burst out laughing. As it was, Yuuri was just glad the boy backed down. He didn’t think he was ready yet for boys to start defending his honor. 

The last skate passed uneventfully, the boy not skating well enough to break Viktor’s hold on the lead. As they filed out of the rink, Yuri kept up a steady chatter of Russian with his grandfather, though he wouldn’t relinquish his hold on Yuuri’s hand. Yuuri and Minako discussed the skaters they’d seen and their projections of the winner based on the day’s performances. No matter how they cut it, Viktor was going to take home the gold.

When they reached the lobby, Minako turned to Nikolai.

“So,” she said, “are you staying in the stadium long?”

Nikolai shook his head. “Yura will see Vitya and then we go to hotel.”

“It’s so nice of you to fly all the way here to support Viktor. Did the rest of his family come as well?”

“No, only us.” Nikolai placed a hand on Yuri’s head. “Vitya always buy ticket for Yura to see skate. He is very kind boy.”

Yuuri frowned. It hadn’t crossed his mind, but it was strange that the only family to come see Viktor in the culmination of the season was his younger cousin and a man who wasn’t even his grandfather. He might have thought they couldn’t afford the tickets and airfare, but if Viktor had bought them for Yuri and Nikolai… Well, it didn’t add up. At least not in a way Yuuri liked.

Before he could question Nikolai about it, his ringtone alerted him to an incoming call. He pulled out his phone and smiled.

“I’m sorry,” he said to the others, already backing away. “I’ve got to take this. I’ll be right back.”

Minako caught his eye and grinned knowingly, but he ignored her as he stalked off and answered the call.

“Congratulations, Viktor! You were amazing---”

“Yuuri! I, sorry to interrupt, I just, I thought I saw—you didn’t happen to be at…” He paused and laughed a bit breathlessly. “You’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“You don’t know that,” Yuuri said, craning his neck around to search through the crowd. “What is it?”

“I, uh, thought I saw you? In the stands while I was skating.” He huffed and it sounded like static in Yuuri’s ear. “That sounds so creepy and weird when I say it out loud. Never mind, forget I said it. I’ll forget I even _thought_ it.”

“I don’t think it’s all that weird.” A sudden influx of noise from Viktor’s side had him straining on his toes to look around.

“Yuuri, how is that not weird? I hallucinated you. I conjured your image in my mind and projected it onto the physical environment. It’s weird.”

“Did I at least look good in the hallucination?” Yuuri asked and Viktor laughed.

“Yeah, you looked great. You were sitting with Yura, so I’m sure you had a great time hearing all the new English he knows.”

“Well, he’s learned quite a bit.” He had finally spotted the telltale flash of silver in the crowd. “Even if he has a very focused vocabulary. He made sure to show me the tiger on his jacket at least three times.”

It was quiet for a moment and Yuuri watched Viktor’s back straighten. “Yuuri, what are you…?”

“Turn around, Viktor.”

“What do you---” he began but trailed off when he spotted Yuuri across the hall. Yuuri gave a little wave.

“Um, surprise?” he said into the phone. Viktor blinked owlishly at him for several nerve-wracking moments and then seemed to jolt out of it. He began to push his way over and Yuuri found himself doing the same. When they met in the middle, Viktor still wore his shock like a mask.

“You, you are---” He blinked when he realized he still held his phone to his ear and ended the call. Eyes not leaving Yuuri’s, he murmured, “You’re actually here.”

Yuuri smiled. “Yes.”

“That was real when I saw you.” His eyes were wide like he couldn’t quite comprehend it. “You came to watch. You’re…”

“I’m actually here, Viktor.”

A wide smile slowly broke across his face and his voice sounded uneven when he said, “You are here.”

He made an aborted motion to step forward but seemed to think better of it. Yuuri didn’t have that kind of self-control and launched himself into Viktor’s arms.

It was strange, almost, being here with Viktor again after getting to know him for months. He felt closer to him than almost anybody else he knew and yet this was the first time they’d ever touched. Viktor’s body was solid against his, arms wrapped vice-like around his waist, and he held Yuuri just as tightly as Yuuri held him.

“You are here,” he repeated and Yuuri laughed brightly.

“Yes,” he agreed, Viktor’s hair tickling at his nose. “You said that.”

Viktor’s arms tightened and Yuuri lost his breath. “I wanted to say it again.”

They stayed that way for an endless moment, Yuuri breathless and Viktor holding him close, before Viktor suddenly reared back.

“You were traveling earlier when we talked!” he accused. “We texted as you came here. Yuuri, you trickster, you bamboozled me!”

“I didn’t bamboozle you!” Yuuri shot back. “I told you I’d be watching and I did. You never asked from where.”

“I thought you meant from your home! How could I know?”

Yuuri laughed. “That was the point of the surprise, Viktor!” Viktor merely pouted, so he faked a put-upon sigh.

“I suppose I should apologize if it bothered you so much. It was a mistake for me to come.” He loosened his hold on Viktor and began to untangle their arms. “I guess I’ll just go home then---”

“No,” Viktor rushed out, using his grip on Yuuri’s waist to pull him closer. His cheeks colored when he realized, but he didn’t lessen his hold. “You should definitely stay.”

Yuuri smiled, finding it hard to adequately fill his lungs again. He wondered if Viktor knew how hard his heart was beating. “Okay. But only because you used the word bamboozled in an actual conversation.”

Viktor smiled, eyes never leaving Yuuri’s face. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” Yuuri said just as quietly.

They shared a goofy smile for a moment longer and Yuuri honestly thought his heart would pop right out of his chest. When he finally couldn’t take its pounding anymore, he stepped back and hoped he didn’t imagine the flash of disappointment in Viktor’s eyes.

“Well,” he said, motioning over to where Yuri, Minako, and Nikolai stood. “I think you have some congratulations to accept.”

“Right,” Viktor said softly, eyes never leaving Yuuri’s face as he followed him to the group.

Yuri was all too happy to see Viktor and congratulate him both in Russian and English (though the English was only a repetition of “Vitya skate good” over and over until Viktor picked him up and tickled at his sides). Nikolai greeted Viktor gruffly, but whatever he said only warranted a small nod and tight-lipped smile from the other. They made small talk for a while, but with the excitement from the competition winding down it didn’t take long for Yuri to begin nodding off against Viktor’s shoulder and they all decided to call it a night. Before Viktor could leave to return to his hotel room, Yuuri grabbed for his sleeve.

“Hey,” he said. Viktor blinked at him with wide, very blue eyes and Yuuri bit at his lip. “I know you’ll probably be busy with practice tomorrow, but if you have any time and want something to do we could, um, hang out. If you want to, that is.”

Viktor immediately nodded, eyes sparkling. “I’d love to! I should be done with practice around 2 if you want to meet me here?”

It was Yuuri’s turn to nod stupidly. “Oh, yeah! Okay. I could show you around Tokyo. I don’t, um, know much, but I’ve been here a couple times, so.”

“That sounds wonderful.” He looked like he actually meant it, smile soft and eyes sincere. “I’ll meet you here, then?”

“Sure,” Yuuri said, almost not believing his luck. He’d been sure that Viktor would turn him down in favor of plans with other friends. This, though, was more than he could have ever hoped. “See you tomorrow.”

He and Minako waved as Viktor left. Once he was out of earshot, Minako put a hand on his shoulder.

“You are in deep, kid,” she said and Yuuri nodded. He couldn’t agree more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Next chapter is my favorite:)


	4. Chapter 4

The next day found Yuuri loitering in the entrance to the stadium at five ‘till two. He’d actually arrived half an hour before and spent that time awkwardly lurking the stairs leading to the entrance, too afraid to enter but also too afraid to leave and come back late, but the clock had finally inched close enough to the allotted meeting time for him to begin his awkward shuffle inside instead.   

He was nervous. Sure, he’d already seen Viktor the night before and they’d been talking now for weeks, but there was something inherently nerve-wracking about spending an entire afternoon with him without the buffer of other people or his phone screen. Minako had made fun of his “pre-date jitters” all morning. Yuuri had vehemently denied the date part, but only because a small part of him had already begun nurturing the thought deep in the recesses of his mind and he didn’t think it was strong enough to stand up to Minako’s teasing.

He didn’t have to wait long, because Viktor appeared promptly at two in the entrance to the rink. It was the first time he’d seen him out of costume, his simple jacket and scarf making him look younger than before, especially paired with a loose braid that hung sweetly over his shoulder. Yuuri immediately straightened from his slouch and grinned, but it dulled a little when he noticed his coaches flanking his sides.

He’d always been a little intimidated by Yakov and Lilia. The couple both had such severe features, made all the more daunting by the pinched frowns they wore like masks. Yuuri didn’t like the way they sneered at him now, and he especially didn’t like the way Viktor’s lips already curled over an apology as he approached Yuuri alone.

“Yuuri,” he said, clutching his hands together at his waist. “I’m really sorry, but…”

“You can’t come,” Yuuri finished for him and he nodded.

“I really want to, but…” Yuuri didn’t miss the way his eyes cut to Yakov and Lilia. “My morning practice didn’t go well. I have to do a bit more.”

That seemed a bit excessive. “You’ve been practicing all day already,” he said. “Aren’t you tired?”

“No, no, I’m fine. We won’t be on the ice. Lilia found a studio to practice in, so I’m just going to work on my arm positions and such.” He smiled and it didn’t quite fit his face right. “I’ll be okay.”

“If you’re sure…”

“I am.” His smile slipped a little and he twisted at his hands. “I really am sorry we can’t hang out, though. I was really looking forward to it.”

It was an understatement to say Yuuri felt the same. It was all he’d thought about since Viktor agreed to go, but he didn’t want to get in the way of his practice. The free skate was the next day and it’s not like Yuuri knew anything about the schedule of a winner.

“I understand,” he said. “Practice comes first. Maybe we could do something tomorrow instead.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

As soon as he said it, Yuuri knew they wouldn’t be able to. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Viktor was going to win gold and he’d have the awards ceremony, a press conference, and countless reporters vying for his attention after his skate. Viktor seemed to know this too, as his shoulders drooped a bit and he glanced aside, wearing his disappointment like a shroud.

Yuuri hated it. He hated that Viktor hadn’t had a break from practice for months now, that Yakov and Lilia were impatiently watching them like even this small respite was too much, that Viktor wouldn’t meet his gaze and clearly thought he had done something wrong.

It was this last one more than anything that had Yuuri blurting out, “Let’s run away” and immediately cringing. “Uh, that sounded way more stupid when I said it out loud, but…  Let’s just, let’s leave.”

Viktor blinked owlishly at him. “Like, now?”

“Yeah. Skip practice.” His voice steadily rose as he grew more excited. “You’ve done enough already. You’re amazing, Viktor. There’s no way you’ll be anything other than perfect tomorrow. One more night of practice won’t change that. Come with me, instead. We’ll, I’ll—I’ll show you all of Tokyo! Anything you want to do. Just… come with me? Please?”

His heart beat a rapid tempo on his ribs as he finished and he waited for Viktor’s response. The other looked shocked, eyes wide and hands dangling at his sides, but he hadn’t said no yet so Yuuri clutched desperately at the dregs of hope he had left.  

Viktor opened and closed his mouth. “Okay,” he said quietly and Yuuri blinked once.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Viktor laughed breathlessly. “Yeah, let’s go.”

A smile had started to flirt with the edges of his lips and Yuuri grinned back.

“Okay. I think we’re going to have to make a run for it.”

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

They stared at each other for a couple moments more, both smiling stupidly, before Viktor prompted, “So are you going to do it?”

“You do it first.”

“ _Yuuri.”_

Yuuri giggled, realizing at some point they had started whispering. “Okay, okay, let’s do it together. On the count of three?” Viktor nodded, so Yuuri began lowly. “One…two…”

“Viktor?” Yakov called across the space and Viktor suddenly grabbed for his hand.

“Three!” he shouted and they both began sprinting for the doors. Their footsteps echoed loudly through the hall, but Yuuri could barely hear it over the sound of their combined laughter. Viktor gripped his hand like a life-line and they nearly tripped over each other on their way out the doors. Luckily, they made it out without any complications, though Yuuri could still hear Yakov calling for Viktor as they flew down the stairs. Once they were safely a couple streets over, they collapsed into each other.

“Oh my god, did you see his face?” Viktor choked out, laughing into Yuuri’s shoulder. “I’ve never seen him turn that color before.”

Yuuri clutched at his forearm desperately to keep them from falling over. “He actually wanted to kill us. He was imagining it right then!”

“He was, Yuuri, he was! God, this is crazy! _You’re_ crazy, Yuuri--- I can’t believe this!” He pushed his hair back with both hands, shaking his head and grinning at him. “What are we even doing? I’ve never done something like this before!”

“Neither have I!” Yuuri yelled back and they both dissolved into another fit of laughter. As the buzz of adrenaline coursed through their veins, Viktor began dragging him down the sidewalk.

“Okay, okay, now you have to show me everything! You promised me Tokyo, Yuuri!” His hair reigned wild, several pieces escaping the braid and hanging in his face, and his cheeks flushed a deep rose. Yuuri thought he’d never been more beautiful and gripped his hand all the harder.

“I probably can’t show you everything,” he teased, “but we just so happen to be right by a neighborhood I think you would really like.”

“Then lead the way, Yuuri,” Viktor sang, though he continued to pull _him_ down the street. Yuuri was all too happy to follow.

Takeshita Dori was busy as usual, the buildings looming over the narrow street and adding to the claustrophobic atmosphere. Yuuri had to keep a tight hold on Viktor’s arm so they wouldn’t get separated by the press of people on all sides, but it wasn’t like he was going to complain about that or anything. Viktor seemed to love it if his large grin and wide, shining eyes were anything to go by.

“Yuuri!” he exclaimed pulling them over to a store-front full of funky shirts and bags. “Look at these dresses! They’re furry!”

“Yeah, they sure are---”

Viktor was already pulling him to the next store. “Oh god, Yuuri, that guy has a cat on his shoulder! Are they selling cats on the street? Is that legal?”

“No,” Yuuri laughed. “He just wants you to come to his store.”

“Oooh Yuuri! Look, a McDonald’s!”

And so it continued all down the street. Viktor was interested in anything and everything and Yuuri was very interested in Viktor. They spent quite a while in an accessory store trying on different sunglasses and headbands. Viktor found a crown of blue roses that complimented his skin tone perfectly and made them take at least a million selfies, until Yuuri thought his face would be stuck in a permanent grin. There was also a retro-punk outfit store where Viktor forced Yuuri to try on the most hideous pleather skirt he’d ever seen. He didn’t look half bad, but the residual mortification from Viktor’s cooing and the red indentations of where it dug into his hips was too much to bear.

When they’d made it halfway down the street, Yuuri spotted a familiar set of shops and hurried Viktor over to one.

“Okay, you’ve got to try a crêpe,” he said, already examining the plastic display case of flavors. “You really like coffee flavored things, right? They’ve got tiramisu around here somewhere I think.”

“They look so pretty!” Viktor said. He bent down to get a better look at a strawberry one when his face suddenly fell. “They aren’t really on my diet, though. Yakov would kill me if I had one.”

“Oh.” Yuuri hadn’t considered that. Though delicious, crepes were kind of high in carbs and fat and sugar and basically everything a skater wouldn’t want in their body the day before a competition. Viktor looked so crestfallen, though, staring at the display case the same way Vicchan stared at steamed buns.

“What if you didn’t have a whole one?” he bargained. “We could share?”

Viktor bit at his lip, though Yuuri caught the way he kept glancing at the pastry. “Um, well Yakov…”

“He already imagined killing us earlier. It’s not like it can get much worse. Besides, what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him, right?” He threw in a conspiratorial wink for good measure.

Viktor looked startled for a moment before tucking a shy smile into the lip of his jacket collar. “Yeah, okay. You’re right. I do want one.”

“Great,” Yuuri grinned, digging for his wallet. “What flavor?”

It quickly became obvious after he bought one that he hadn’t been thinking properly, because Viktor taking a bite off his spoon and groaning at the taste was probably the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he might have lost his virginity then and there. A stray bit of cream got trapped in the corner of Viktor’s lips and as he licked it off Yuuri was suddenly very sure that he, a man, was pregnant.

“This is amazing, Yuuri!” Viktor exclaimed, covering his mouth as he giggled. “I want to eat this forever.”

Yuuri smiled weakly. “I told you they were good.”

“Aren’t you going to have some too? I thought we were sharing?”

Belatedly, Yuuri realized that he hadn’t even moved. “Oh. Yeah.”  He took a bit and popped it into his mouth. Viktor waited eagerly for his reaction as the burst of sweetness hit his tongue. “It’s delicious.”

“Delicious,” Viktor agreed, already spooning out another bite.

They shared until the pastry was nearly gone and then Yuuri let Viktor have the last bit. He didn’t know how he’d survived them taking turns biting into the pancake or when Viktor got cream on his nose after a particularly hearty mouthful, but his heart had stopped palpitating enough to take Viktor to a couple more shops. As they left one near the end of the street, Viktor suddenly stopped and stared in awe at the night sky.

“Wow, I didn’t realize how dark it was already,” he said, turning an inquisitive look on Yuuri. “Isn’t it a little early for sunset?”

“Not in December.” Yuuri began walking again, pulling Viktor with him so they wouldn’t disrupt traffic. Viktor trotted along cooperatively, but with his face upturned to catch the reflection of neon lights above. His eyes sparkled as he took them in. Yuuri saw the awe clearly painted there and had an idea.

“Come on,” he said, tugging Viktor towards the railway line. “I said you’d see the best of Tokyo, right?”

He took him to Shibuya. It was the heart of Tokyo nightlife, bright neon lights and animated billboards assaulting the senses at every side. Yuuri could tell Viktor loved it as soon as they stepped into the main square. His jaw actually dropped like some kind of cartoon character and he clutched his hands over his heart.

“Wow,” he mouthed before turning to Yuuri and saying it aloud. “Wow!”

Viktor was determined to see everything the neighborhood had to offer. They braved the Shibuya crossing, Viktor turning in circles in the center of the street to take all the people in. They picked out nail polishes and tried on even _more_ accessories in Shibuya 109. Yuuri even convinced him to get dinner at an udon restaurant, showing him how to dip the noodles with his chopsticks and sloshing the broth all over the table in the process.

Yuuri didn’t remember ever laughing so much in his life. Viktor was radiant, open and carefree and _happy_ in a way that had Yuuri’s brain shutting down like it never had before. Everything bled together into a clash of lights and sound and _Viktor_ until he was drunk on it, completely uncaring of the stares they drew. Everyone _should_ look, he thought. Viktor was someone to be seen, bright and shining and so damn beautiful. Yuuri couldn’t tear his eyes away either.

The only thing that even felt real was Viktor’s hand in his. He pulled Yuuri down every alley he saw, into every store that caught his fancy, and Yuuri followed blindly. He didn’t even care where they were going at this point, only that they go wherever it was together.

Down some back alley, they stumbled upon a mock-stage set up on the sidewalk. A DJ stood on the steps of a storefront, mixing a song with a throbbing bassline while a group of girls danced on the stage. A small crowd had gathered around, watching in the polite but interested way only Japanese people could. The bass reverberated in Yuuri’s chest and masked the frantic race of his heart. When he glanced over and caught Viktor’s eye, the other grinned.

“How would you feel about a dance-off?”

Yuuri’s response was to grab his hand and drag him under the flashing lights of the stage.

It wasn’t much of a dance-off, more just the two of them spinning around the other and laughing stupidly. He was sure they looked ridiculous as they fumbled through turns and moves that had no place with the fast, poppy beat that blasted from the speakers. Viktor tossed his head back and laughed when Yuuri threw a passable breakdancing spin, so he jumped to his feet and pulled them close together for an improvised tango.      

Pressed together like this, Yuuri could feel the twin race of their hearts between them. Viktor’s chest rose and fell rapidly as their steps became more intricate. He gasped when Yuuri suddenly spun him and laughed when he caught him in a deep dip. Hair fanned out around his face and eyes scrunched together, he was beautiful. Yuuri found himself thinking that maybe he should stop wondering if each moment was the most beautiful he’d ever seen him when he was just going to get more gorgeous every second longer he knew him.

They danced for what felt like hours. When Viktor spun and landed in his arms, cheeks red and giggling helplessly, Yuuri felt something in his chest snap and give away. He looked down at Viktor and knew things weren’t ever going to be the same.

***

It was late by the time they finally began their walk back to Viktor’s hotel. The streets they wandered were close to deserted and the moon offered little light to see by, so Yuuri only got brief glimpses of Viktor’s face under the staggered streetlights. He was humming quietly to himself, smile soft in the dim light as he snuck peeks at Yuuri from behind his hair.

Their hands were tangled between them. They had been for most of the night, but it felt different now that Viktor wasn’t just using the grip to pull him from place to place. Yuuri would have thought his anxiety would make handholding a living hell, forcing him to question how hard to squeeze or whether his palms were too sweaty or if maybe the other person was just humoring him. With Viktor, though, it was different. It had felt natural to slip his hand into Viktor’s, even more so to tangle their fingers together. It was like his body already knew Viktor’s and was just responding to its pull.

“You know.”

Yuuri was drawn from his thoughts by Viktor’s voice. The other had his gaze set on the road before him, eyes contemplative but with an edge of mischief.

“I’m really glad you convinced me to be a truant today,” he said. “Who knows how many arm positions I would have been forced to endure if you hadn’t intervened.”

Yuuri chuckled. “I’m glad I could help. I live to corrupt the youth of our generation.”

Viktor shot him a coy look over his shoulder. “Ah, so I was just one of many?”

“Oh yeah,” Yuuri deadpanned. “I’m a regular playboy.”

“Katsuki Yuuri, corruptor of youth and dashing playboy,” Viktor drawled. Yuuri giggled and the other openly watched, swinging their arms between them a little.

A sudden thought struck Yuuri. “You’re not going to get in too much trouble, right? For leaving earlier?” He didn’t think he’d be able to forgive himself if Viktor was punished for something he’d pushed him into doing.

Viktor waved off his concerns. “No. Yakov knows I’ve practiced enough. He was just getting anxious for the final tomorrow. I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure…”

“Definitely. I’d do it all over again, too.” His voice suddenly turned thoughtful. “I really do want to say thank you. Today was…” He shook his head, smiling. “Seriously the best day of my life.”

Yuuri felt his heart stutter. He’d been thinking the same, of course, but it was different to hear it from Viktor.

Viktor’s cheeks grew pink at his lack of visible response. “Sorry, that was probably weird to say. To be honest, I keep waiting for you to realize how weird I am. I’m not exactly the person people usually expect.”

He said it with a teasing lilt to his voice, but his tight smile and lowered gaze made Yuuri think it might be a little truer than Viktor would like him to believe.

“You are different than I thought you would be,” he blurted out and Viktor’s shoulders drew in a little tighter. “But I’m glad. I don’t think I could even have imagined someone as amazing as you.”

The slow smile that grew across Viktor’s face was a thousand times worth the embarrassment that stirred in Yuuri’s gut at the words.

“I guess I don’t have to put on my super suave guy act around you anymore, huh?” he joked, probably trying to lighten the mood.

“I just want you to be Viktor,” Yuuri said and he noticed that Viktor had to hide another blush.

Once they arrived at the hotel doors, they slowly came to a stop and stared at each other. Yuuri wasn’t really sure what to do at this point. How were you supposed to end a night that was probably the culmination of your entire existence up until that point? Viktor seemed to be having the same troubles.

“I, uh…” he trailed off and began running his free hand through his hair. At some point in the night it had come loose from the braid and now it trailed silkily over his shoulders and down his back. He chuckled awkwardly. “I don’t really want to say goodbye.”

“Me neither,” Yuuri said. “Let’s just leave again.”

Viktor smiled. “We’ll be transients. Live off the land and whatever the dumpsters of Tokyo can give us.”

“Raise an army of stray dogs to keep us warm at night.”

“Poodles, all of them.”

They grinned at each other and Yuuri felt light all the way down to his toes. He didn’t want this moment to ever end, didn’t want to think about leaving the next day and not knowing when they’d be together again. A restlessness built up in his bones and he found himself gripping Viktor’s hand harder.

“You should come visit me,” he said, suddenly struck with the idea. “My family owns an inn. You could stay for free. There’s not a lot to do around town, but we have a beach and, um…” He shrugged. “The beach.”  

Viktor looked frozen for a moment and Yuuri shifted a bit.

“I know that’s kind of sudden and weird,” he said. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to…”

“You wouldn’t mind if I visited?” A stray piece of hair caught a gust of wind and fell over his eyes and he tucked it loosely behind his ear. “Really?”

Yuuri shook his head. “Of course not. I think it would be really fun! We could even skate together.” He hadn’t realized it until he said it, but it would be the perfect opportunity to skate on the same ice again. He lurched forward, pushing to his toes a bit. “Really, you should come. Maybe in the off-season?”

Viktor still looked a little shocked. “Okay. Sure.” A smile slowly overtook his face. “I would really like that.”

“Okay, yeah. Me too,” Yuuri agreed.

They came to an impasse again, neither ready to leave. Yuuri probably would have been content to stay there forever, but he knew Viktor had to skate the next day and didn’t want to keep him out any later than he already had.

“So, I’ll, uh. See you tomorrow then?”

Viktor nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

Yuuri used his grip on Viktor’s hand to pull him in close enough to wrap his arms around his neck. Viktor’s slid around his waist and settled on his lower back.

“Good luck tomorrow, Viktor,” he murmured.

The night had cooled considerably since sunset, but the space between their bodies was warm and Yuuri thought he could exist in that moment forever.

***

When Yuuri got back to his own hotel room, Minako was waiting on her bed.

“So?” she prompted.

Yuuri slid back against the door, hiding his grin in his hands.

She flew to her knees. “Oh Yuuri. Tell me _everything_.”

Blush high on his cheeks, he did.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has left a comment or kudo so far--you are all seriously so nice!

Viktor won the next day, to no one’s surprise. As he stood atop the podium, a deep blue flower crown secured over his ponytail, he looked brilliant, smile brighter than the gold he held up to the light.

 Yuuri was right when he’d thought that the post-skate activities would keep them apart. Viktor was whisked from interview to interview, reporter to reporter, until Yuuri lost track of him in the crowd. He had Yuri to keep him company as he waited, and they spent the time beating Yuuri’s old high scores from the Tetris app on his phone.

When someone finally did happen across him, it wasn’t Viktor. Christophe Giacometti, who’d skated just shy of the podium earlier, ambled over to stand in front of the bench Yuuri shared with Yuri.

“Yuuri!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t expect to see you here today. Did you come to cheer me on?”

His smile was wide and innocent and Yuuri mirrored it weakly. He’d met the younger boy at his qualifier in October, the same one where he’d first talked to Viktor, and they’d bonded over a shared dislike for wearing contacts while skating. He liked Christophe well enough, but he also knew that behind those large doe eyes and delicate eyelashes lay a cunning mind with a thirst for gossip.

“Hi Christophe,” he said. “You skated well today.”

“Oh, you flatter me, Yuuri. We both know today wasn’t my best.” He grinned, his eyes scrunching with the force of it.

“Your triple loop was well-timed. And that step sequence after the last combo was flawless.”

Never one to fake humility, Chris nodded. “Mmmm, true. But I think you could have done it better.”

Yuuri didn’t really know about that, but he wasn’t going to lie and say he hadn’t wondered. He’d found himself wishing very much that he could be one of the skaters out there. 

Before Chris could figure out what he was thinking and give him that little knowing smirk, Yuri tapped Yuuri on the shoulder, propping the phone under his nose.

“Yuuri, game!” he ordered. Yuuri had already become quite versed in Yuri’s limited English and figured he wanted him to play another level with him.

“One moment,” he told the boy, holding up one finger and gesturing to Chris. “I’m talking to my friend, okay?”

Chris’ gaze settled on Yuri. “And who is this little cutie here?”

“This is Yuri. He wants to be an ice skater someday.”

“Game, Yuuri,” the blond whined, prodding at Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Ah, another Yuri then. How cute,” Chris cooed. He pointed at the cat ear headband Yuuri had bought for the boy the day before in Harajuku. “I like your ears, Yuri.”

Yuri’s hands flew to the headband, tugging them off and cradling them protectively against his chest. “Me,” he said firmly.

Christophe’s brows rose comically high on his forehead. “I would never dream of taking your ears, buddy.”

Yuri’s pinched mouth and narrowed eyes showed that he clearly didn’t trust whatever Chris had said. He turned to Yuuri, placed the headband in his hands, and patted the crown of his head. “On Yuri?”

Yuuri obligingly slid the headband over his fine hair and Yuri grinned toothily up at him. Chris shuffled his feet, reminding them of his presence, and Yuri’s grin slid into a sneer as he curled back into Yuuri’s side.

“I’m glad I got to see you today, Yuuri, even if I am a tad disappointed we didn’t get to skate together again. Maybe the both of us would have been able to edge out that Russian machine.”

“Russian machine? You mean Viktor?” Yuuri asked, perplexed.

Chris’ eyes lit up and Yuuri realized this was where he had been steering them the entire time. “Oh, so you know him?” He didn’t trust that innocent tone of voice at all.

“Yes, we’re friends.”

“Is that so?” Chris looked intrigued now. “Yuuri, you’ve got to tell me your secret. How’d you do it?”

“Do what?”

 “Get him to talk to you! What secret allure are you hiding from us all? Yuuri.” His voice lowered mischievously. “Did you seduce him?”

Yuuri’s jaw dropped. “What? No. _No_. We just, we just started talking. He’s really friendly, I don’t know what you mean.”

“Viktor Nikiforov, friendly?” He huffed out a laugh. “I’ve been through two seasons with him and I’ve only talked to him once and he _definitely_ wasn’t interested in doing it again.”

Yuuri shook his head, just not understanding. “Was he, what, was he rude or something?” Viktor had never been anything but friendly and overwhelmingly kind. He couldn’t imagine him blowing anybody off, especially Chris.

“No,” Chris sighed, gazing off into the distance as if remembering. “He was unerringly polite. Said all the right things in all the right places, just like he does with everyone else. I guess I just thought I could be the one to get to know him better since we’ve been to so many competitions together.”

“So he’s…”

“Got a bit of a reputation for being a snob, I guess.” Chris ran a hand through his hair. “I thought he’d always just stick to reading his books and blowing us all off, to be honest. Until you. I almost couldn’t believe it when I saw him hug you the night of the short program. Most emotion I’ve seen out of the guy in two years of knowing him.”

Chris actually sounded put off by the admission, as if he begrudged Viktor his friendship with Yuuri. And maybe he did, Yuuri suddenly realized. If he really was as unapproachable as Chris said, their sudden and inexplicable relationship would be a tad weird. It almost pissed Yuuri off a little. Chris obviously knew nothing about Viktor if he thought he was a snob and clearly hadn’t tried very hard to get to know him. All Yuuri had done was ask for his Skype info and he’d been all too willing to share. He imagined the other skaters were just jealous of Viktor’s unrivaled skill, along with his good looks, and had judged him before ever even attempting to talk with him.

“Well,” he said, voice polite but clipped, “he’s not a snob. At all. He’s one of my best friends, actually.”

Chris threw up his hands in a placating gesture. “Hey, no offense intended. I was just surprised, is all. Wanted to congratulate you for doing what none of us ever could.”

Yuuri still didn’t feel right about it, but he nodded anyway. A blush had bloomed high across his cheeks just from the words alone, so he figured he’d stop before he embarrassed himself any further. Fate must have had similar plans, because right then Yuri perked up beside him.

“Vitya!” he shouted, jumping to his feet and sprinting over to the hallway Viktor had just emerged from. Smiling, Viktor scooped him up and listened as Yuri rattled off his excitement about the day. They continued down the hallway until they were near enough for Viktor to catch Yuuri’s eye.

“Yuuri! I---” He abruptly cut himself off when he spotted Chris beside him.

“Oh, Christophe,” he said, voice suddenly subdued. “Hello.”

Chris grinned back. “Hello Viktor. It seems I owe you a congratulations. You skated beautifully today.”

“Thank you. Congratulations to you as well.”

Chris snickered. “Fourth place doesn’t exactly need a congratulations, I’d say. But thank you, I suppose.”

Viktor didn’t make any response other than a polite smile and Chris turned a pair of knowing eyes on Yuuri. _See?_ they seemed to say. _Do you see what I mean now?_ Yuuri pretended not to see it.

After a pregnant pause filled with Chris’ insinuations and Viktor’s uncharacteristic silence, Chris finally blew out a breath. “Well, it was nice talking to you, Yuuri. I expect to see you here skating next year, yeah?”

He leaned in for a quick pat to Yuuri’s back, surprising him into stillness, and then pulled back with a quick wink. Before wandering off, he threw a polite wave at Viktor.

“See you later, Nikiforov.”

Yuuri watched him go with a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. He really hadn’t liked the way he’d acted like he knew Viktor better than he did, especially when he had such a weird idea of who Viktor was. He shook the feeling off. Whatever that was about, it shouldn’t poison his last bit of time with Viktor.

“I didn’t know you knew Christophe,” Viktor said, eyes still trailing after the other.

Yuuri shrugged. “Just a little. We met at my first qualifier.”

“Hmmm.” He didn’t say anything more on it, seeming to shrug it off for a wide smile. For a moment, though, Yuuri thought his eyes had shown just the slightest bit wistful.

“By the way, Yuuri, thank you so much for the crown! I can’t believe you bought it without me noticing!”

Yuuri laughed. It had been a pain to sneak the crown of blue flowers over to the register and then slip it into his backpack without Viktor noticing, but it had been worth it when Viktor had picked it up from the ice earlier that day and beamed up at him in the stands.

“You really liked it when you tried it on, so…” He shrugged.

Viktor hoisted Yuri higher up on his hip and tweaked at his cat ears, causing the boy to hiss at him. “And you got Yura tiger ears! You’re amazing, Yuuri!”

“I’m glad you liked them,” he said bashfully.

Viktor set Yuri on his feet and, clearly having lost interest in their conversation, the boy settled himself down with Yuuri’s phone again.

“I don’t have much time,” Viktor said apologetically.

“Of course, Mr. Gold Medal Winner. I’m sure you have lots of important stuff to do.”

Viktor grinned, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear. “Well, maybe not important, but I do have a lot of things to do. Yakov is already on my case about running through my exhibition piece.”

“Sorry I can’t stay for it. I’d love to see it.”

“That’s okay. I just can’t believe you came at all. It was…” He smiled, the edges of his eyes crinkling with the force of it. “It was a really nice surprise. Thank you.”

“Oh, well… I’m glad.” Their gazes held for a moment and Viktor’s smile grew a little sad.

“You know, a life on the streets with our pack of dumpster poodles is sounding pretty nice right about now.”

Yuuri chuckled. “Yes, but then what would Vicchan and Makkachin do? They’re too spoiled to rough it out on the streets with us.”

“True,” Viktor sighed. “I suppose we’ll have to part ways for now.”

“For now,” Yuuri agreed.

“Vitya!” Yakov’s call came from across the hall and both their heads snapped up to receive his glare.

“He probably thinks you’re going to whisk me away again,” Viktor said. “I’d better get back before he really does make good on his promise to put a tracking chip in my arm.”

Yuuri laughed and this time it was Viktor’s turn to pull him in for a hug. They both clung a little too tightly. He tried to memorize the feel of Viktor’s body against his in the brief space of time.

“Don’t forget what I said,” he whispered into his hair. “Anytime.”

Viktor nodded. He squeezed back for a moment before they both pulled away. The separation almost physically burned, leaving his entire body on edge and _wrong_ , and Yuuri wondered if everyone hurt like this when leaving a friend.

“Goodbye, Viktor,” he said as Viktor backed away.

“Goodbye, Yuuri.”

As he walked away, he threw a couple of glances over his shoulder and Yuuri stayed for each one, returning them with a small smile. It wasn’t until Viktor was out of sight that his smile withered away. He wondered if it would be another year before he got to feel the warmth of Viktor’s hand in his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading:)


	6. Chapter 6

If Yuuri had thought that being away from Viktor was going to be hard, he was wrong.

It was terrible.

Suddenly, so many places in his life were just… empty. He’d nail a particularly tricky step sequence and wish Viktor could have seen it. His mother would make katsudon and the sauce wouldn’t taste as sweet because Viktor had never tried it. Even schoolwork left him feeling down because Viktor loved to learn but had sacrificed it for his career. Everything, _everything_ , led back to Viktor, which sucked because Viktor was thousands of miles away in Russia while he was here being that weird emo kid who stuck up posters of his friend’s face all over his room because he missed him (and yeah, it _was_ weird, deal with it).

Before, he’d been content with his limited social circle and subpar communication skills. Now he constantly found himself glued to his phone, spamming Viktor with anything and everything that came to his mind. Thankfully Viktor didn’t seem to mind and spammed him back, but it was getting out of hand. He’d run into three poles just in the past week while texting and he was this close to losing phone privileges at home. It was ridiculous.

He’d never had anyone to talk to like this before. Sure, there was Yuuko at the rink and sometimes Takeshi when she brought him along, but they were both older and dating and grossly invested in each other. Mari never showed much interest in him other than the usual sibling teasing and he didn’t connect with the majority of his classmates.

Viktor, though, was different. He didn’t judge Yuuri even when Yuuri judged Yuuri. He listened to everything he had to say and was excited to share his own thoughts. He _liked_ Yuuri. And Yuuri liked Viktor too. He liked the way he talked and the way he laughed. He liked that he refused to listen to Taylor Swift but had a thing for American pop. He especially liked when Viktor talked to him late at night and his voice dropped low to keep Yakov from waking in the room next to him, words slurred because he was tired but not wanting to end the connection. He liked Viktor—so much—and it sometimes physically pained him to be so far away.

Like now, for instance.

With the end of the year quickly approaching, his school had decided to send his class on a daytrip to a Shinto shrine in a small village just north of them. The village sat on the side of a mountain and sported a fairly famous bridge over a fairly famous waterway that led to the more-famous-but-still-not-nearly-as-cool-as-the-one-in-Nikko shrine. His classmates were ecstatic at the prospect of missing a school day, but Yuuri resigned himself to awkwardly interacting with the couple of people he was friendly with and then finding a quiet corner to eat his bento alone in like he did on every other school trip. He’d already seen the shrine anyway.

The day progressed much the way he’d expected. They shuffled through the trails crisscrossing the mountain and took pictures with each other over the bridge. The ground sported a hefty coating of snow and every step resulted in soggy socks and even soggier dispositions. At one point he’d been forced into a group picture and had immediately gotten a copy to send to Viktor because a girl said his hair looked nice in it.

Viktor’s response hadn’t come until lunchtime, and it had only been a series of exclamation points and crying emojis. Yuuri had laughed when the second message had come right after the first.

[Viktor]: _YUURI you look so cute! Where are you? Are those your friends? Take more pictures!_

[Yuuri]: _Thanks. We’re on a fieldtrip today. It’s this little village that has a cute shrine. And some of them are._

[Viktor]: _Where are the pictures, Yuuri? I’m living vicariously through you, help me out here! I want the full Japanese schoolboy experience._

[Yuuri]: _That sounded extremely dirty you know._

[Viktor]: _;)_

Yuuri obliged him, sending pictures of the shrine and wildlife and interesting looking rocks. Viktor seemed particularly interested in the _kitsune_ statues, so Yuuri made sure to find as many of those as possible. After a while, Viktor began clamoring for pictures of the people around him.

[Yuuri]: _Japanese people don’t take pictures of other Japanese people. It’s considered rude._

[Viktor]: _Okay, but have you considered just not telling them? They won’t know you took the pictures so they won’t know to be offended. Makes sense, right?_

[Yuuri]: _That’s good logic. But how do I know you won’t sell them on the internet?_

[Viktor]: _I only show Makka, I swear! He wouldn’t tell a soul._

[Yuuri]: _I do trust Makka…_

He took a couple selfies with some classmates, figuring they were consenting to the photos and probably wouldn’t mind. The girls were excited anyway; he hardly ever let them get pictures of him.

“Oooh, Yuuri-kun!” Aoi said, peering down at her phone. “These are so cute! I’m going to upload them to Facebook as soon as I get home!”

Beside her, Himari grinned. “For sure. I know some people who would pay good money for a copy of this one.”

Himari was under the delusion that people thought Yuuri was cute and actually wanted to see his face. He decided to leave her alone to run whatever ill-fated business she was currently concocting.   

“Which one is your favorite, Aoi-chan?” he asked instead. The girl put a finger to her lips, humming as she examined the two options on his phone, before pointing at the one where he had his fingers thrown up in a peace sign.

“This one. You look real handsome in it.” He was already busy messaging it to Viktor when she began grumbling. “How can you message all the way out here, Yuuri-kun?”

“My phone has its own Wi-Fi,” he replied absently, smiling as Viktor spammed him with exclamation points again. He wasn’t paying attention and suddenly there was a head leaning over his shoulder.

“What are you doing that’s got you so into your phone, hmmm?” Himari’s bangs cast her eyes in shadow and she almost looked devilish. “You’ve been distracted all day.”

“And all week! And the week before that!” Aoi chimed in.

Yuuri hid his phone behind his back. “What? No! I was just… bored and got interested in a game.”

“What game?” Even though Aoi played at being the sweet one with her round cheeks and childlike disposition, she had a mischievous streak that ran just as deep as Himari’s. It made her that much more dangerous.

“Um, Tetris?”

“Liar!” Himari shouted, lunging for his phone. Yuuri barely dodged her attack before Aoi was coming from his other side. It was unfair, really, because how was he supposed to fight them off without looking like a jerk? Himari easily plucked his phone out of his fingers, and both girls grinned as they leaned over it.

“What the hell, this is all in English!” Himari complained, but Aoi gasped beside her, hand flying to cover her mouth.

“Yuu-kun…” she breathed. “It’s a boy! Is this who you’ve been talking to so much lately?”

Both girls’ eyes roamed over the string of messages and Yuuri felt his stomach liquefy. Even if they were just messages, it felt like the contents of his heart and mind were spread out on the small screen for them to pick apart and peruse. The only person allowed to look was Viktor. He swiped again for his phone.

“Please give it back,” he pleaded, but Aoi grinned at him.

“If you won’t tell us, we’ll have to see for ourselves!”

Himari’s eyes suddenly narrowed. “What do you mean ‘some of them’ are your friends? Which one of us aren’t your friends, Yuuri-kun?”

“Ummm,” he began, hunching his shoulders under her glare.  

“That doesn’t matter,” Aoi suddenly said, saving him from imminent death by Japanese schoolgirl. “This is serious. Yuu-kun has a boyfriend!”

“What?” Yuuri’s jaw dropped. “That’s not true! He’s just a friend! We’re just friends!”

“Yuu-kun, this is not a picture you send to friends!”

The picture she was referring to had come from Viktor just that morning, right as he was going to sleep in his time zone. His mussed hair fanned out over his pillow, eyes heavy lidded but sweet as he gazed up at the camera. Makkachin was tucked under his chin and he looked… well, gorgeous. And kind of sexy, but that was just Yuuri’s own thoughts on it. It definitely wasn’t intended to be that way or anything.

“That was… He was tired,” he defended. “He’s just naturally, um, well, like that.”

“Absolutely stunning, you mean?” Himari asked and Aoi giggled. “Wow, you really landed a looker here.”

“He’s not---” He stopped himself. There was no sense arguing about this. He threw his hand out in front of them, palm up. “Can I just have my phone back? Please?”

“Sure,” Himari said. Yuuri mentally sighed, but then her mouth quirked in a smirk. “After you admit you and Pretty Boy are dating, that is.”

Yuuri groaned. He was never going to get his phone back. They should just kill him now and save themselves the residual trauma of watching his head implode from embarrassment.

Aoi grabbed at his shoulder. “It’s okay, Yuu-kun, he’s really cute. We’re glad for you, really.”

“You don’t understand,” he sighed. “We’re not like that. Viktor is… my friend.”

Honestly the term didn’t really fit what Viktor had become for him, didn’t fully encompass the late night talks or the endless messaging or the way Yuuri’s heart had pounded as they danced in Shibuya. Viktor was like water, slowly filling Yuuri up with his light and joy and laughter until he overflowed with it. You couldn’t really name something like that.

“It’s not like that,” he repeated.

“But you wish it could be.” Aoi’s eyes shone with a knowing light.

“Wait, no, I---”

“Listen, take it from a girl who’s been in love six times in just the past year. You’re in love. I can tell.”

“Aoi-chan!” he didn’t have sufficient words to express how embarrassing her words were. “That’s, you’re…” He buried his face in his hands, hoping his burning face would ignite his entire body. Death by spontaneous combustion would be perfect right about now.

“Please give me back my phone,” he muttered miserably from behind his fingers.

Himari sighed. “I suppose.” She grinned when Yuuri’s head shot up and handed him the phone. “You need to message Pretty Boy back anyway.”

“You two are impossible,” he muttered, bringing his phone inches from his face as he typed.

“Yeah, and you’re impossibly in love, Yuu-kun.”

The thing was, they weren’t really wrong.  He’d jokingly told Minako that he was in love with Viktor the very day he’d met him, but he’d only used it because he didn’t have a name to give to the giddy anticipation he had been feeling at the prospect of getting to know him better. Now, though, was different. Looking back on the past couple of months and seeing how easily Viktor had carved his own little niche in Yuuri’s life, he could almost see where others might think they were dating. And it wasn’t like he hated the idea; in fact, he thought about it a lot. He loved a lot of things about Viktor, like his laugh and his jokes and his zeal for life. Was it really such a stretch to say that he just loved Viktor himself?

Yuuri shook his head. Feelings were just so confusing and he hated that something that had felt so natural and easy had now been made into something he would probably worry over during insomniac episodes. He honestly should have gone to some of the boys in his class who were too afraid of their own feelings to make him examine his own.

As it was, the girls only threw knowing looks at him every time he looked down at his phone after that. He refused to let their teasing embarrass him any further, though, so he ignored it. Near the end of their trip, they passed a small wall of hanging wooden tablets all painted with various designs and scenes. Yuuri slowed. It had been many years since he’d made a wish on an _ema_. His sister would call it childish, but something had Yuuri walking over and buying one. He hesitated after writing his name and address, pen lingering over the wish line. Perhaps he could…

“Yuu-kun! Don’t be late!” Himari yelled from further along the path and Yuuri blushed. He quickly scribbled out his wish and then scrambled after the group. When he caught up, Aoi fell in beside him and linked their arms.

“What did you wish for?” she asked, but he just smiled. As they sloshed through the snow, he thought of his wish until it dug its roots in his chest and sprouted, small and quiet and unassuming. He cradled it close to his heart and hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lack of Viktor. He'll be in the next chapter (which probably won't take months to post possibly maybe lol).


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